Harry Potter and his Seventh, Lastest Adventure!
by Odie-Wan Kenobi
Summary: Harry Potter must find those Horocruxes and destroy Voldemort. But he also endures romance, danger, surprise foes, major suspense and the deaths of various major characters. HBP spoilers!
1. The Secret Message

It began right after Dumbledore's funeral was over.

Harry was getting ready to climb aboard the Hogwarts Express. He knew that he had a big mission ahead of him. And he knew that it would be dangerous. Very dangerous. But by now, Harry was used to this. Everything he did was dangerous. Yes, it was. He was Harry Potter after all.

The Boy Who Lived. The One Who Survived the Killing Curse. The Chosen One. The Title That Was Stolen from Anakin Skywalker. Harry was all of these things.

Harry was about to go back to the Dursleys. Why? He wasn't sure. After all, they hated him, and with Voldemort somewhere out there, killing all that he could, he didn't exactly have time for this sort of thing. But he was going back to live with the Dursleys. Until his birthday, when he would turn 17 years old. He would be an adult then, and the time would come for him to destroy the Dark Lord, a name which was, of course, stolen from "Lord of the Rings".

But first, Harry would have to do a few things. He'd have to go to Fleur Delacour's wedding, because she was being married to on of Ron's older brothers. Which one? He couldn't remember, but he was certain that it was either Bill or Charlie.

Then Harry would have to go in search of up to four Horocruxs, the locked safes of Voldemort's soul. Once he found all of these, he would take them to Mordor, and he would toss them into the depths of Mount Doom, which was a stupid name for a volcano, and the world would be saved from evil's wrath.

Okay, so he wasn't going to Mordor, but he was going to destroy those Horocrux-thingys, even though he had no idea where they were.

It was then when the owl came.

The owl was one which Harry had never seen before. In its mouth was a letter, which was wrapped in red ribbon, and it was heading straight for him.

But the owl would never reach Harry. For at that moment, to Harry's horror, he heard these words.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The owl looked like a baseball had conked him on the head. Then, spinning like a falling model airplane, the bird fell to the ground. A cloaked person ran over to the poor animal. Harry instantly knew that it was a Death Eater.

"Oh, yes!", shouted the Death Eater. He snatched up the letter, unwrapped the red rippon, and looked at it. He giggled madly. "Hooray! This note was being sent to none other than Harry Potter! It was sent to him by none other than Dumbledore's most trusted agent. And it says exactly where I can find those other Horocrux thingys. Well, I'll go off to find them and protect them! The the Dark Lord will reward me!".

At this, the Death Eater jumped in the air, and ran off in the direction of the Black Forrest.

"Oh, no, you don't!", Harry growled. He pulled out his wand.

"Acio Firebolt!"

Seconds later, Harry's broom zoomed up to him. He jumped on and flew after the Death Eater at top speed.

The running Death Eater looked up. "Oh, no", he moaned. "It's Harry Potter, flying on his amazingly fast Firebolt. He's going to try and take the note from me. Or worse, the camera may abruptly pause on an eerie still of his face and the movie will end".

These thoughts seemed to motivate the Death Eater, who started running faster and deeper into the Black Forrest.

Harry tried to pick up the speed on his Firebolt, but he was already moving at top speed. And he was losing the Death Eater.

"I know what I will do", said Harry. "I will fly lower so that it will be easier for me to grab the note from that dude when I'm close enough to him".

And so the boy who had never said "Dude" before in his life flew lower and deeper into the Black Forrest. Now he was able to soar much faster through the trees and branches. Soon, he wasn't too far away from the Death Eater.

"Crikey", yelled the Death Eater. "How did you catch up with me so fast".

But Harry didn't answer him. He just continued his chase. He was only a few feet away from his enemy now.

But then, he suddenly put on the brakes on his broom (however you do that), for he found that he was in an area of the forrest that was deadly.

"Oh, good", said the Death Eater, looking back as he ran. "He gave up".

"Hagrid", sang a deep voice. "Is that you? Because if it is, you just becaame breakfast".

"Yesssss", hissed another voice. "Ever since our father died, you are no longer anything but a snack to us".

The Death Eater screamed in terror as he was surrouned by about 200 gigantic spiders.

"Awwwwww", whined one of the little spiders. "It's not Hagrid".

"It still looks like food to me", said another. Seeming to agree on this, they all closed in to devour their meal.

"AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGHHHH--", the Death Eater yelled, but his cry was cut off by the sound of several mouths crunching food at the same time, followed by the sound of paper tearing.

"Gee", said one of the spiders. "That bloke was carrying some kind of note".

"Too bad you ate it", said another. "It might have been a check".

But as Harry flew off as fast as he could, he smacked himself on the head. The secrets to his quest of destroying Voldemort were gone.

And, if he didn't hurry, he'd miss the Hogwarts Express... and lots more danger.


	2. News from Luna

Harry was flying as fast as he could to get out of the Black Forrest in time to reach the Hogwarts Express. For whatever reason, he decided to provide sports commentary about himself while he did this.

"And he just barely missed that branch", Harry said of himself. "But, of course, he didn't even get scratched. There's no better man on a broom in the world than Harry Potter".

Hearing these comments seemed to annoy some of the Centaurs in the forrest, who promptly started shooting arrows at him.

"And the crowd doesn't seem to like Harry Potter much today", said Harry as he dodged their shots. "But those Centaurs and their mighty arrows aren't enough to stop him. No way".

The Centaurs were now very anrgy. They now pulled out guns and started blasting away at Harry.

"Woah", Harry said, flying higher in the air so that the bullets couldn't hit him, "I think it's time that Potter split the arena before our hero is killed".

"Did you hear that?", one of the Centaurs said has Harry flew out of sight. "He called our forrest an 'Arena'".

"Disgusting boy", another of them snarled. "Mark my words, he'll pay for this. In fact, I think that this act of ego on his part may ultimately cause the death of a major character!".

But Harry was completely unaware of this as he zoomed out of the Black Forrest and flew past Hagrid's cabin. As was usual now, Buckbeak the Hippogriff (a name which looked like a typo) was resting outside in the field next to it.

Yet as Harry's eyes came into contact with Buckbeak's, there was something notably odd about them. At first, they looked almost as though they were filled with hate. Pure hate. Hate, hate, hate. Yet at the same time, there was concern. Strange, sincere conecern. Fear for his, Harry's, own safety, almost. It was weird.

So weird, in fact, that Harry found himself staring at Buckbeak for two whole minutes. But then he remembered something...

"The Hogwarts Express", Harry yelped, and he swooshed off at top speed.

He soared around the Hogwarts castle, did a few stupid stunts, and quickly found himself heading for the train that was just about to leave.

"All aboard", the conductor said. "This is your last chance to--"

"Stupify!", Harry yelled, his wand pointed at the conductor, who landed on the ground with a soft _thud!_

"Now I have some time to spare", said Harry as he got off his broom. He walked over the stunned conductor and aboard one of the passenger cars.

He looked around for any sign of Hermione and Ron. As was always the case, he couldn't wait to tell them about juicy gossip he had in store for them, in this case the owl that had a note from him, the Death Eater who had stolen it, and how both the Death Eater, the owl and the note met their untimely demises.

He soon found himself face to face with Luna Lovegood.

"Hello, Harry", she said in her usual dreamy voice when she saw him. "Where have you been?".

"Oh, just going to the bathroom", Harry lied. "Thought that I'd give Moaning Myrtle a visit".

"That's a fib", said Luna, but her voice, as always, wasn't cross. "I saw you running off. You were going after that cloaked man, weren't you?".

"Uh...", Harry said, not knowing what to say, "Have you seen Ron and Hermione".

"I see", said Luna. "You're going to tell Ron and Hermione how you weren't going to the bathroom but were really going after a cloaked man who killed a postal owl that was heading straight for you".

"I...", went Harry, now feeling the sudden urge to hit Luna, "How the heck do you know all this?".

"I saw the whole thing, as I've said before", Luna sighed. "And, so you know, I've seen that owl before. He's sent me a--"

"When?", Harry interupted. "When have you seen that owl? Who would send it to you?".

"Oh, now you want to talk to me", Luna said, looking at the ceiling. "The owl's sent me many a letter from--".

"MS. LOVEGOOD!", a voice growled.

Up the hall clunked Mad-Eye Moody, looking as scary and furious as he always did. "Don't go telling Harry anything he shouldn't know".

"But Professor", said Harry. "That owl was sending me a--".

"Quiet!", Moody yelled. He looked at Luna and softened his voice. "He must find out about this later. Now, let's get you back to your seat".

And with that, Moody picked up Luna by her hair and drug her off. Luna didn't seem to mind too much, and started humming some sort of song to herself.

"Goodbye, Harry", he heard her say. "And do remember to watch out for Gazordinplats".

Now Harry's mind was full of questions. This was, of course, totally out of the ordinary for him.

"I must find Ron and Hermione and tell them all that I've been through today", he said.

So Harry looked and looked all around the train for his two best friends, until he found them in their usual seats. Why hadn't he looked there in the first place?

"Where have you been, Harry?", asked Hermione, who was holding Crookshanks, the cat with a deep, dark secret, in her arms.

"Yeah, we were all worried about you", said Ron.

"Well", Harry began, but then he paused. "Hang on. What do you mean by you 'all' being worried about me. It's just the two of you, right?".

"Oh, no", said Hermione. "Ginny was here".

Harry's jaw dropped.

"She...", he said. "She..."

"She left a few minutes ago", said Ron, his face growing slightly pink. "She went looking for you".

"WHAT?", Harry shouted. And without thinking twice, he ran for the passenger car's window and pulled it open.

"Harry!", Herminone screamed. "What on earth do you think you're doing?".

"The train's moving!", yelled Ron. "If you're thinking of jumping..."

"I must save my true love!", Harry said firmly. "Farewell, my brave friends. It's been nice knowing you".

"DON'T!", Hermione screeched. "HARRY, YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!".

"Of course I do", Harry said, getting ready to leap. "Ginny went into the forrest to look for me, so I have to--"

"NO!", Hermione exclaimed. "She's only searching around the train for you, Harry. She's not out there".

It was then when Ginny Weasley entered the car.

"Harry, are you killing yourself?", she asked.

"No", Harry said blankly. Oh, boy, did he feel stupid now.

"That's good", she said. "Because if I hadn't found you here, I would have jumped out of that window myself".

"Ginny!", Hermione and Ron went in unison. The sexual tension between the two of them kept becoming more obvious by the moment.

"I'm only kidding", Ginny said, smiling slightly, but Harry wasn't sure if she was being honest.

"Well, don't joke about things like that", Hermione and Ron went, again in unison. The sexual tension between the two of them kept becoming more obvious by the moment.

After an awkward silence, Harry wasted no time telling Ron and Hermione about all that had just happened in the first chapter and his conversation with Luna.

"Bloody hell", Ron said once Harry had finished. "A Death Eater showing up right after Dumbledore's funeral? Didn't think it was possible". He then grinned. "At least we've found something good to say about Hagrid's spiders".

"It's not funny, Ron", said Hermione. "They might've eaten Snape for all we know".

"And why would that concern you?", fumed Ron. "It would be the best news I've heard in a long time if that were the case".

"But Ronald", Hermione said slowly. "Dumbledore trusted Snape. Really, really, really, I mean. He seemed to trust him more than most of the teachers here".

"And what are you saying?", snarled Harry.

"I'm saying, oh, I don't know what I'm saying", said Hermione, exasperated.

"TRAIN ROBBERS! TRAIN ROBBERS ON THE HOGWARTS EXPRESS!".

It was Neville Longbottom. He ran over to Harry and the others and panted.

"Train robbers", he wheezed. "There are train robber goblins on the Hogwarts Express".

"Train robbing WHAT?", said Harry.

But Ron, Hermione and Ginny all had looks of dread on their faces.

It was Ginny who said it.

"We're all doomed".


	3. Greg the Goblin

"I'm confused", Harry said to Ron, Hermione and Ginny, all three of whom were now shaking so fast that their faces looked like blurs.

"Goblins are the most clever creatures around, Harry", said Hermione. "So when they rob a train, no one can ever stop them".

"But what do they want?", Ginny wailed, bursting into tears. "It's not like we're heading to Gringotts or anything".

"Neville", Ron said very, very softly. "It's not _his_ gang, is it?".

Sweat was dripping down Neville's head as he nodded.

"Oh, no!", Hermione gasped. "We really are doomed!".

"What?", asked Harry, still more confused now. "Whose gang is it?".

"Greg's", said Ginny, her face growing very pale indeed. "Greg's come to rob the Hogwarts Express".

It was then when Mad-Eye Moody came bursting into the room.

"Have you seen Lovegood?", he said, looking as though he were asking about the last sighting of a convicted murderer instead of a slightly insane teenage girl.

"Not since you drug her off", answered Harry. "What was she--".

"DON'T YOU GO TALKIN' TO HER!", Moody snarled, his magical eye spinning around. "This lot that's just hopped aboard the train would be very happy to learn a few things about just that".

"About _what_?", Harry asked.

"WHAT DID I JUST TELL YOU?", Moody growled. "Don't go asking questions right now!".

It was then when they all heard a loud crashing sound.

"We're here", cackled a voice. "We're aboard the Hogwarts Express!".

"Where is he?", yelped another. "We must find him!".

"Stop squeaking, you brainless gits!", boomed a voice. "What matters is that we find _it. _That's what we're here for".

"Yes, Greg", the other two voices said together.

Both of Moody's eyes looked directly at Harry.

"Come with me", he muttered.

Harry looked at Ron and Hermione. They both, as always, gave him uncertain looks.

"I said come with me", Moody repeated.

So Harry did just that and walked with Moody into a small closet.

"Lumos", Moody said, his wand lighting up the dark room. Then he looked at Harry.

"You've got to stay here", he said. "These goblins are looking for _you"._

"Why am I not surprised?", said Harry.

"They don't want you", Moody growled. "They want _it. _You do have _it_, don't you?".

"Uh, what exactly is...", Harry began.

"YOU KNOW WHAT _IT_ IS!", Moody snarled. "IT WAS JUST GIVEN TO YOU!".

"Woah", said Harry.

"What's 'Woah', Potter?", said Moody.

Harry almost said "Somebody needs a Tic-Tac", but stopped himself.

"I don't know if I have _it", _whispered Harry. "Hell with it, I don't even know what _it _is".

Moody opened his mouth to say something when they both heard some voices talking outside.

"He's in here", said one of the voices. "This is where he took him".

"Do you think that we can get the door open?", said the other. "There are a few things that I would like to say to him".

Moody pulled out his a wand and put one of his scarred fingers in front of his scarred lip. He was saying "Be quiet, Harry, while I jinx whoever's out there", but he didn't use any words to say it, and yet, Harry understood him. It was just like magic.

Moody slowly opened the door handle.

"STUPIFY!"

Neville Longbottom fell over backwards and thudded on the floor. Luna Lovegood was standing next to him, not looking at all surprised.

"Hello, Professor", she said. "Neville said that you were looking for me".

"HAVE YOU SAID ANYTHING TO THE GOBLINS?", Moody roared, blowing Luna's hair around with his breath as he did so.

"You mean Greg and his Gang?", Luna said. "Oh, we don't need to worry about them. All we have to do is enchant a sponge, get a pineapple, and...".

"NO, YOU CRAZY GIRL!", Moody roared. "DON'T SAY NOTHING, YOU HEAR ME?".

"Nothing", said Luna defiantly.

Now Moody was really angry. He picked Luna up by the cuff of her shirt, tossed her into the closet where he and Harry had been talking, and locked the door.

"Stand guard", said Moody. "I'm gonna go fight those goblins".

And he ran off, leaving Harry standing there with the stunned Neville and a thousand more questions in his head.

It was around this time when Ron and Hermione came walking up to him. For some reason, their hands were tied behind their back.

It wasn't until they got closer when Harry looked down and noticed the six goblins gathered around them.

"Listen", one of them said, pointing his want up at Hermione's throat. "We be knowin' the killin' curse, alright? So if ye don't be givin' us _it_, yeh be makin' a bad move on yer friend's part, alright?".

"Don't listen to them, Harry!", screamed Hermione. "It's a trap!".

"Arrrr", said the goblin. "I be warnin' ye not to speak". With that, he waved his wand, and Hermione's mouth vanished.

"Ahhhhhhh", screamed Harry. "How'd you do that?".

"I be takin' more than dat if ye don't listen to me", said the goblin. "I be killin' her, and that boyfriend of her's".

"I'm not her boyfriend", snapped Ron. "And since when do goblins talk like pirates?".

Five seconds later, Ron wasn't able to say anything, for his mouth was gone too.

"Look, I don't even know what you're talking about", said Harry. "Honestly, I don't".

"We'll just see about that", said the goblin, waving his wand.

It felt as thought a bandage were being ripped off of Harry's face very quickly. He tried to yell, but he couldn't. His mouth had been erased.

"Ha, ha, ha", said the goblin. "Now we'll git ye to talk".

"And how are you going to do that?", snarled a voice.

Another goblin had joined the scene, but unlike the others, he had a crown on his head. Harry knew at once that he was Greg.

"Greg!", squeaked the goblin. "I was only doin' like I was told. Now that Potter has no mouth, we'll git him to talk and tell us where _it _is".

"How can he do that WITH NO FOOKIN' MOUTH?", snarled Greg.

The other goblin rubbed his chin. "Wow", he said. "Ye got me dere, boss".

Greg pointed his wand at the pirate-talking goblin.

"Avada Kedavra!", he yelled.

_Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!_

The pirate-talking goblin fell down dead, as did his five companions. Greg had good aim.

"Now", said Greg, his eyes glinting in an evil way. "You, Potter, are going to give me _it"._

Harry didn't have a mouth, so he just shook his head.

"Very well", snapped Greg. "Then we don't need to talk anymore. The Dark Lord can tell me where the other Hororuxes are himself!".

Harry's eyes widened as Greg pointed his wand directly at his knee.

"Don't laugh", Greg said. "It's the best that I can do".

He then cleared his throat.

"Cruc-"

"EXPELIARMOUS!"

Greg's wand went flying out of his hand and landed in the palm of Ginny Weasley.

"Looking for this?", she asked innocently.

Greg looked furious beyond words. He grabbed a wand from one of the dead goblins and pointed it at Ginny.

"This is the end of you, girl!", he snapped. "Avada Kedavra!".


	4. The Muggle Thrift Shop

Harry was at a loss for words (literally, since he had no mouth). His true love, his beloved Ginny Weasley, had a death curse heading straight for her chest. And there was nothing that he could do to stop it.

There were so many things that he hadn't done with Ginny. He had never told her that she was the single most beautiful person in all of Hogwarts (Cho who?). He had never gone on an actual date with her. He hadn't ever mentioned that he had completely ripped-off "Spider-Man 2" by breaking up with her.

And, worst of all, he had never once seen her naked.

Had Harry had a mouth at the time, he would have screamed. But there was nothing that he could do. Nothing at all. The Avada Kedavra would strike Ginny, and she would die.

Were things happening in slow motion or something, because Harry had more than enough time to reflect on his feelings for Ginny as her doom soared on over to her.

Or maybe it was just Harry. He knew that, when someone was having a near-death experience, life seemed to slow down. It had happened to Harry, oh, only nine times.

Whatever was happening to time, be it Harry's imagination or a broken Time Turner, Ginny pulled out a mirror from under her robes.

Why did Ginny keep a mirror under her robes? It must've been a girl thing. But it saved her life, for at that moment, the death curse hit the mirror and bounced back at the one who fired it.

"NO!", screamed Greg, and if Harry believed that this goblin was one of those cheap Fanfiction villains who got killed off in the fourth chapter, he was mistaken. Greg jumped out of the way and the death curse struck the closet door behind him.

The closet door was smashed to shreds, releasing the imprisoned Luna Lovegood.

Greg's eyes widened. He looked very excited for some reason.

"Do you have _it_?", he asked her.

"No", said Luna simply. "And Harry doesn't either".

"He doesn't?", said Greg. "How come?".

"Because a Death Eater killed the owl who sent it", said Luna with a small shrug.

"Blast", said Greg. "That bloody man beat me to my promotion".

"LOVEGOOD!"

Harry turned around and saw Mad-Eye Moody clunking towards them.

"WHAT DID I TELL YOU?", he screamed, grabbing Luna by the shoulders and shaking her wildly. "WHAT DID YOU TELL THEM!".

"Only that Harry didn't have the secret message from Dumbledore's most trusted agent", Luna answered.

Greg looked furious. So did Moody.

"So I wasted time on this train for NOTHING?", Greg exclaimed.

"No, you didn't", said Moody. "You got yourself captured by Mad-Eye Moody, and sent straight to Azkaban".

And with that, Moody picked up Greg by one of his ears and pointed a wand as his neck.

"Not today, Woody!", yelled Greg, pulling out a knife and jamming it into Moody's normal eye.

"OH, MERLIN'S BEARD!", screamed Moody, dropping Greg and covering his injured eye with both hands. "NOW I'LL BE NEEDING ANOTHER MAGICAL EYE!".

If Harry had had a mouth, he would have surely barfed, for the sight of Moody right now was, like, beyond disgusting.

Greg pulled out a small horn and blew into it. Seconds later, all of his remaining goblins ran over to him.

"We're leaving this train!", he said. "There's nothing that we need here!".

So all of the goblins opened a nearby window and jumped out, one by one. Greg was the last one to jump, and before he did so, he looked at Harry with a look of fury in his eyes. "I'll be back!", he whispered, and then he was gone.

Harry didn't know what to say (and if he had, he couldn't anyway, so it didn't matter). This had easily been the most dangerous thing that had ever happened to him while he was on the Hogwarts Express. Ron and Hermione also kept quiet, but they also had no mouths, so that might've been a reason.

Mad-Eye Moody was rubbing his bleeding eye with a dish towel. He looked very tired.

"Well, Potter, you did good", he gasped. "You're a pretty good liar, you know that? I almost believed you when you said that you didn't have _it_".

Harry shook his head.

"Oh, right", said Moody, pulling out his wand and waving it in front of Harry's face. Instantly, Harry felt his mouth reappear.

"I don't have _it_, Professor", said Harry. "Luna was right. A Death Eater stole the message".

"WHAT!", Moody growled. "You mean to tell me that a Death Eater has a message from Dumbledore's most trusted agent!".

Harry then explained to Moody everything that had happened in the first chapter. Moody nodded grimly.

"Well, it's better than him getting away with it", he said. "You were lucky not to be eaten, though, Potter".

"The sad thing is that I never got to read the message myself", sighed Harry. "Otherwise I might know who Dumbledore's most trusted agent is".

"I do", said Luna. "It's--".

"DON'T YOU DARE!", growled Moody, and he grabbed Luna by the arm and clunked off with her.

"I wonder what they're hiding from me", said Harry, stating the obvious.

Hermione and Ron said nothing.

"Oh sorry", said Harry. He cautiously pulled out his wand and waved it in front of their chins. Both of their mouths were returned to their normal places.

"Bloody hell", said Ron. "That was really weird".

"You said it, Ronald", said Hermione. "But if you ask me, we're lucky to be alive right now".

After half an hour of talking with Ron and Hermione about all that had just happened, the train arrived at the King's Cross station in London.

"We'll walk you home, Harry", said Hermione, when she saw that the Dursleys were not there to pick him up.

"Yeah, Dad said that it would be alright", said Ron.

And so, despite the fact that it was a very dangerous time for three teenagers to be walking a great distance, Harry, Ron and Hermione started walking to Privet Drive.

On the way there, they came across a thrift shop.

"Let's go in", said Ron. "I've never been in a Muggle thrift shop before".

"Yes, and it would be fun to go shopping after all we've been through today", said Hermione.

After all, everyone loved going shopping after they had just been to a funeral.

Anyway, the three of them entered the thrift shop. It was full of all sorts of Muggle things that just facinated Ron.

"Oh, Dad would love to see this stuff", he kept saying at every other minute.

Eventually, the came upon a pair of jeans.

"I think", said Hermione, "That I will try this on".

Hermione took the jeans, ran into a dressing room, and came out wearing them. They fit her perfectly.

"Wow", said Ron. "Hermione, you look sexy".

Hermione grew very pink. "Well, I say that you try them on".

"No way", said Ron. "Jeans are girl's pants".

But Hermione looked at Ron in such a stern way that he forced himself to try the jeans on.

"Bloody hell", he said. "They fit me perfectly. Harry, you try them on".

Harry rolled his eyes, but he didn't see any way out of doing this, so he had to try them on.

"They fit me really well", said Harry, impressed. "They're certainly a nice change from Dudley's old pants at home".

"I just had a brainstorm", said Hermione brightly. "Why don't we all share these jeans? Harry could wear them for a week, then send them to Ron, and he would wear them for a week, and so on".

"I like it", said Ron. "After all, it's not every day that you find magic jeans in a Muggle thrift shop".

"But, um, isn't this kinda stolen from another story?", Harry asked slowly.

"No way", said Hermione. "What would make you think that?".

"I don't know, it just sounds like something I've heard before", said Harry. "Besides, I don't even think they're magic pants. Our butts are all the same size".

What Harry really wanted was for Ron or Hermione to offer him the chance to keep the jeans for himself. But that didn't happen, so after Hermione paid for them with Muggle money, Harry walked off for the Dursley's house wearing the "Traveling Pants".

"Remember", Hermione called after him. "Don't wash the pants. It might spoil their magic!".

Harry couldn't believe that this was happening. What Ron and Hermione saw as a way to bind their freindship was something that Harry saw as extremely stupid. But as he walked up to the steps of his home on Privet Drive, he'd find better things to worry about.

Such as the person who was following his every step...


	5. Voldemort's Secret Hideout

Harry was about to open the door to the household of the Dursleys when he heard it.

_Rustle! Rustle! Rustle!_

"Hmmmm", said Harry, pulling out his wand. "Someone might've followed me home".

It was already night, so Harry muttered "Lumos", making his wand into an instant flashlight.

He looked around. He couldn't see anyone. Then again, the noise sounded as though it came from a bush or something.

"I'd better investigate", he said.

So Harry looked behind a few bushes.

No one.

"Sigh", Harry sighed, walking back up the steps. "I guess it was just my imagination".

He opened the door and went inside, slamming it shut behind him.

Ludo Bagman put a hand over his chest and took a deep, long breath.

"Phew", he puffed. "That was close". Then, to make his line a bit more cliche, he added, "Too close".

He had been following Harry home in an invisibility cloak, so as not to be seen (duh?). He had almost been caught, however, when he tripped and fell into a bush.

Fortunately, Harry hadn't felt around the bush that he fell into while he was searching for his stalker.

And it was a good thing, too. Had he failed in what he was doing, he, Ludo Bagman, would surely face the wrath of his master.

Yes, it had been close.

Too close.

"Well", he said to himself, once he was sure that Harry was staying inside. "I may as well go tell my master where Harry Potter is. He should be most pleased with me".

He got up and looked around, just to see that the coast was clear. The street was, for the most part, empty. And as for the few people taking evening strolls, they were clearly Muggles and would not be any trouble for him.

He got on his broom, the invisibilty cloak still over him, and flew off to Voldemort's secret hideout.

Once he got to Voldemort's secret hideout, he got off his broom.

Then he walked over to the door of Volemort's secret hideout, pulled off his invisibility cloak, and knocked.

_I do hope that he's in a good mood today, _Bagman thought nervously.

The door creeked open, and a masked figure poked his head out.

"Password", it hissed.

"Password?", said Bagman. "Since when is there a password here?".

"Since this morning", hissed the black figure.

"Sherbet Lemon?", guessed Bagman. He was in a real fix if he couldn't guess the password.

"No", said the masked figure.

Bagman took another shot. "Baldardash?".

"No".

"Fantastic Four?".

"No".

"Merlin's Beard?".

"No".

"Angelina Pitt? Brad Jolie? Kevin Zellweger? Renne Chesney? Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans? Blast Ended Muggles?".

"No, no, no, no, no and NO!".

Bagman was taken aback by the masked figure's shout.

"This is your _last_ guess", the man warned.

Bagman could feel himself sweating. He had to get this right.

"Are you going to guess or not?", asked the masked figure, clearly getting annoyed.

"Yes", said Bagman. "Avada Kedavra!".

_Thud!_

The masked figure fell down dead. Bagman tucked his wand back into his pocket, chuckling slightly as he entered Voldemort's secret hideout.

"That trick always works", he said to himself.

"Bagman? Issss that you?", hissed a voice.

Bagman's chuckles stopped abruptly. He knew that to be the voice of Ralph Fiennes, which meant...

"My Lord", said Bagman, as calmly as he could. "I bring good news to you".

"Then, come in", said Voldemort's voice. "You know where I am".

Bagman walked over to the single most frightening door in all of Voldemort's secret hideout and walked inside.

Voldemort was sitting in his throne. He had recently taken a liking to doing this.

"My Lord", said Bagman, catching his breath. "I bring you news on the Potter boy".

"My deer Ludo Bagman, he is no longer a boy", hissed Voldemort. "Why, he'll be coming of age in just a few weeks".

"Of course, my Lord", said Bagman. "I am sorry, my Lord. Forgive me, my Lord. I am a fool, my Lord".

"You are right on the last one", said Voldemort. "Now, tell me what you have learned".

"I have learned", said Bagman, trying to keep his face straight, "Where Harry Potter lives".

Voldemort leaned in closer to Bagman without standing up from his throne.

"Continue", he said.

"Well", said Bagman. "He lives on Number 4, Privet Drive".

Voldemort leaned in still closer.

"Are you sure?", he hissed.

"Yes", said Bagman. "I am certain of it. I saw him walk up to the house, wearing this sweet pair of jeans, I will note. He looked around a bit before entering, as though making sure that no one had followed him. Then, a minute later, he opened the door and went inside".

"And he lives on Number 4, Privet Drive?", hissed Voldemort.

"Yes", said Bagman.

"Ah", said Voldemort. "I am not surprised. I should've known that he was there when a Dementor was spotted in that area".

"Potter sent it away, my Lord", said Bagman. "You do remember, don't you?".

"Yes, I remember", said Voldemort, his lips curling. "It almost landed Potter in Azkaban".

"So you are pleased with me, my Lord?", said Bagman.

"Yes", said Voldemort. "Stupid as you are, and much as you have denied working for me, I am pleased with you".

Bagman sighed with relief. Then he cleared his throat. Should he continue speaking? No, he shouldn't. It would upset the Dark Lord. It would...

"There is something that you wish to say, Bagman", hissed Voldemort.

"No, my Lord", said Bagman, suddenly scared. "It is ...nothing".

"You lie", said Voldemort. "You wish to ask me a favor, Bagman. You wish to ask Lord Voldemort for a favor".

"No!", said Bagman. "I just..."

"What is it?", said Voldemort, and the demand in his voice was clear.

"Well", said Bagman, growing quite pale. "It's about ...the next movie".

A pause.

"Go on", hissed Voldemort.

"I was just wondering, my Lord, just wondering", said Bagman. "If it is really to late for me to be in it".

Voldemort laughed, causing Bagman to nearly jump out of his skin.

"You fool", said Voldemort, still laughing. "Production on 'Harry Potter & the Goblet of Fire' is complete. It has already been rated PG-13, don't you know? You were cut for good reason, Bagman, because your character was weak and pointless. I applaud Warner Bros. for their decision".

"Fine, my Lord!", Bagman cried. "I meant no offense, my Lord! Forgive me, my Lord! I am sorry, my Lord!".

"Get out", said Voldemort. "I have a meeting with my most faithful servent in a moment, and I wish for you not to be here".

"Of course, my Lord", said Bagman, bowing to his master. "I will leave you".

And with that, Ludo Bagman bolted out the door, nearly tripping over the body of the mysterious masked figure on his way out of Voldemort's secret hideout.


	6. Horocruxesdotcom

"What the devil are you doing here?", snarled Uncle Vernon when he saw his nephew enter his house.

"He's not supposed to be back yet", said Aunt Petunia. "The boy must've been expelled from school".

"I haven't been expelled", said Harry. "The headmaster was murdered by one of my teachers, so the students were sent home early".

There was, without question, a look of sincere satisfaction on Uncle Vernon's face.

"What did I tell you, Petunia?", said Uncle Vernon. "Didn't I tell you that this whole world of magic folks is nothing but death and destruction?".

"Of course, Vernon", said Aunt Petunia, but Harry noticed that she looked a little nervous.

"Well", said Uncle Vernon, looking at Harry. "It's up to your room, boy. This house is not yours until the date when you were _supposed_ to come back".

"Fine", said Harry, walking up to his room. He didn't really want to be around the Dursleys anyway.

That night, Harry was overwhelmed by his grief and sorrow. He couldn't believe that Dumbledore was gone. That Sirius Black was dead. That Cedric was history. That he had never known his parents. Aragog was only a memory now.

And it was all Harry's fault.

He was in his bed, but he wasn't sleeping. He was deep in thought about Dumbledore, Sirius, Cedric, Aragog and his parents.

So Harry started to cry. He started with small sobs, but they grew louder and louder as he wept.

He found that he couldn't stop crying. His greif was too strong. He missed Dumbledore. Dumbledore had meant so much to him. He missed Sirius, his godfather! The pain, oh, the pain of never being able to see them again. The pain, oh, it made him cry still louder.

He got up from his bed and decided to use the bathroom. He cried all the way on his way there. Then, as he was using the bathroom, he cried some more, blowing his nose on the toilet paper. When he was finished and went back to his bed, he cried still more.

Then Harry cried and cried and cried and cried and was absolutely howling when he heard a knock on his door.

Harry opened the door, tears still rolling down his cheeks, and saw the face of Dudley.

"Can you stop your crying, cry baby?", said Dudley in a rude, sleepy voice.

"Of course I can, loser", said Harry, slamming the door in his cousin's face.

Harry was now angry, but it wasn't enough to stop his crying. He cried and sobbed and wailed. He thought that his tears would eventually put him to sleep. But he was wrong.

He turned on his lamp. Maybe a little light would make him feel better. But there, on his desk, was a picture of his parents. Now he felt still sadder.

He continued to cry, loud enough for the neighbors to hear. They would've called the police, but they thought that he was some sort of dog, and the pound didn't answer the phone this late at night.

So the police weren't called, and nobody came to stop Harry from crying. He cried and cried and cried and cried and cried.

Finally, he had an idea.

"I'm not going to just cry here all night long", he said. "I am going to do something to make things better".

But how could he make things better?

Well, killing Voldemort was a good start.

But he couldn't kill Voldemort until he had destroyed those Horocrux-thingys.

And he didn't know where they were hidden. How could he find out where they were?

The internet was a source of information. It was used by Muggles and would probably do him no good. But he figured it was worth a shot.

Harry snuck downstairs and turned on the computer. Before long, he was on the internet.

"I need to do this more often", said Harry. "I never realized that there were, like, 10,000 websites all about me".

But now was not the time to see what various teenage girls thought about his butt. Now was the time to learn about horocruxes.

Harry typed in the web address: won't work", Harry mumbled to himself.

But it did work. The main page read:

**"Welcome to the place where you can find out where all horocurxes are hidden. Now featuring the locations of You-Know-Who's four remaining keys to his soul." **

"Brilliant", said Harry, clicking on the the appropriate boxes until he found what he was looking for.

It turned out that one of Voldemort's four remaining Horocrux-thingys was hidden in Diagon Alley. Another was hidden in Hogsmeade. The other two, convieniantly enough, were at Hogwarts.

"Brilliant", said Harry. "It should be easy to find those things now".

He was about to log off when an ad popped up on the computer screen.

"Want to find those Horocruxes faster?", it said. "Buy our exclusive Horocrux Detector".

"Brilliant", said Harry again, clicking on the ad. Within minutes, he had purchased the Horocrux Detector, not knowing at the time that it would ultimately cause the death of a major character.

Meanwhile, far, far away from the Dursleys' awful house, Lord Voldemort was having an important meeting with his single most trusted agent.

"The deaths of Crabbe and Goyle are of no loss to us", said Voldemort from his throne in his secret hideout.

"I know, my Lord", said Voldemort's single most trusted agent. "But Greg failed to get _it_ from Potter".

"Potter doesn't have _it"_, said Voldemort with a small smile. "_It_ died with Goyle".

"But what of Bagman killing Crabe?", said Voldemort's single most trusted agent. "Is he to be punished?".

"Bagman will get what's coming to him", said Voldemort. "In the meantime, he is to follow my plan".

"Of course, my Lord", said Voldemort's single most trusted agent.

"Remember", said Voldemort, his voice rising slightly. "You are my single most trusted agent. You _must_ not fail in your mission".

"I won't, my Lord", said Voldemort's most trusted agent.

"You have a great advantage", said Voldemort. "One that none other of my followers have. _Harry Potter trusts you"._

"I know, my Lord", said Voldemort's most trusted agent coldly. "I know".


	7. Death on Privet Drive

When Harry woke up the next morning, he found himself in an unusally good mood. He was in such a good mood, in fact, that he went downstairs for breakfast in his nightie, leaving those darned pants behind him in his room.

"What did I tell you, boy?", growled Uncle Vernon when he saw Harry in the kitchen. "This is house is not yours until--".

"It's okay, Vernon", interupted Aunt Petunia. "We'll feed him dog food. That always makes Dudley laugh".

"Oh, God, no!", said Harry. "Not again".

_Splat!_ A blob of chicken liver was placed on Harry's plate.

"Ha, ha, ha, ha!", laughed Dudley.

Now Harry wasn't upset because he was being fed dog food (it actually tasted better than most of the stuff the Dursleys fed him). He was upset because he knew that if the Dursleys had dog food in the house, it meant only one thing: Aunt Marge was coming to visit.

Aunt Marge hated Harry even more than the Dursleys did ("I fail to see why", Vernon had said. "She doesn't have to live with the bloody boy like we do"). The thought of her visiting made him lose his hunger, so, alas, he didn't finish his dog food.

"Awwwwww", whined Dudley as Harry was sent upstairs. "I wanted to see him barf it out".

"Don't worry, Dudders", said Aunt Petunia, rubbing her son's chubby cheek. "Harry will barf, your mummy will make him".

"No!", growled Vernon. "Let him go! We can't let the pest be seen by--"

_Ding-Dong!_

"Bloody hell", yelled Vernon. "It's her!".

"Harry, get down here and open the door", said Aunt Petunia.

"No!", said Uncle Vernon. "Get out of our sight!".

_Ding-dong!_

"Harry", said Petunia. "Do as your auntie tells you".

"I want him to barf", said Dudley.

"So does mummy", said Aunt Petunia, who was determined to satisfy her son's craving for a disgusting sight at the expense of her nephew.

_Ding-dong!_

"Who cares about him barfing?", spat Uncle Vernon. "I have to get the--"

BANG!

The front door of the Dursleys' home fell to the ground, revealing the sight of Aunt Marge, almost as fat as the time when Harry had blown her up by mistake. She was carrying, in addition to her awful dog, a shotgun.

"What's with the shotgun?", asked Dudley. "Dad, can I have her shotgun?".

"Your auntie will buy you one, sweetie", said Aunt Marge to Dudley. "But for now, I've taken up a new hobby: Wizard hunting".

It was hard to tell whose facial expression changed the most. Uncle Vernon's jaw dropped as if her were a cartoon character. Aunt Petunia's eyes grew wide as if she were an Anime character. Dudley belched, causing his mouth to expand like the opening of a garbage can, and smelling twice as bad. And Harry just stood there on the stairs, not sure what he should do.

"Where", began Uncle Vernon, clearly straining to say his words, "have you heard about wizards?".

"The internet, Vernon", said Aunt Marge. "I've been looking around, and found out about this boy who murdered this poorl guy when he was just a baby. And now, everyone's calling him the most savage person in the world, and I'm not going to let someone like that roam around London. I'm going to kill him!".

She said all of this, and then, no one said anything, and everyone was quiet for more than two hours. Finally, Vernon spoke.

"What's his name?".

"No idea", said Aunt Marge. "As far as I know, he's only called _You-Know-Who"._

"You're completely mixed-up!", Harry blurted out. "You're talking about two seperate people! _You-Know-Who_ is Voldemort, who is not a boy, nor his he some poor guy who got murdered. He's still alive! As for the other person, that one would be--".

"YOU!", snarled Aunt Marge, pointing her gun at Harry.

Harry gasped. What had he done?

"YOU NEVER CORRECT ME, BOY!", yelled Aunt Marge. "EVER AGAIN!".

"Don't talk to me like that!", yelled Harry, though heaven knows why he did so. "I happen to be that other person you were--"

BANG!

A bullet zoomed past Harry's head, barely missing his glasses. Marge's awful dog yelped and ran into the kitchen.

"I SHOULD'VE KNOWN!", screamed Aunt Marge, her face growing blood red.

Then she charged at Harry, knocking Petunia, Vernon and Dudley in the process, and began shooting rapidly.

"Aaaahhhhh!", yelled Harry, and hebolted down the stairsand ran out of what used to be the door.

"GET BACK HERE, KILLER!", yelled Aunt Marge, running after him.

Harry would've looked back to shout something at her, but he thought that thismight slow him down, so he just kept running. He heard a shout from behind him, but couldn't make out what the voice was saying.

_Thud!_

For some reason, Harry stopped running and looked behind him. There, crumbledon the sidewalk, was Aunt Marge. She was dead.

Harry felt sick just looking at her. So he did the only thing he could do: He threw up.

"Ha, ha, ha, ha!", laughed Dudley.


	8. Breakaway

"You've killed Marge!", snarled Uncle Vernon. His face was a deeper shade of purple than Harry had ever seen.

"Now he's done it", said Aunt Petunia. "There's no way we're going to let a murderer stay in our house".

"No, I didn't", said Harry, too stunned to say anything else.

"Of course you did!", barked Uncle Vernon. "How else do you explain Aunt Marge falling down dead like that, and this just so happened to be when she was trying to kill you?".

"I don't know", said Dudley slowly. "Maybe it was magic".

"DON'T SAY THAT WORD OUTSIDE!", growled Vernon, his face growing still more purple. "You want the neighborhood to hear you?".

"Uh...".

"GET THE BLOODY HELL INSIDE!"

Dudley, whose ears grew very pink, turned around and waddled inside, showing the entire neighborhood his enormous backside.

Uncle Vernon shook his head after his son had left. "This on top of being cut out of the fourth movie", he mumbled.

"I know, Vernon", said Aunt Petunia kindly.

"I mean", said Uncle Vernon, "I never even _liked_ Marge, but I'm not sure if I wanted _this_ to happen".

Uncle Vernon then went over to Aunt Marge and examined her body. After a short while, he spoke.

"This is bloody magic", he said. "I can't even find a cut on her skin. No doubt about it, this was the work of one of _them_".

Harry didn't like where this is going. Uncle Vernon paused before walking over to Harry, looking oddly satisfied.

"I've had to make a very tough choice", said Uncle Vernon. "But sometime's a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. I believe that you killed Aunt Marge, and even though you can argue that you didn't do it, I still know that you did do it, even if you come up with a very good reason to prove me wrong. Therefore, it is in my judgement of the safety of this house, that you never set a toe inside our home again".

He said all of this matter-of-factly, and when he was finished, he slapped Harry on the face.

"I've been wanting to do that ever since you were sent to that school!", he said. "Now GO!".

Harry didn't know what else he could do. He didn't have any of his things with him. He didn't have any food or extra clothes. He didn't even have any money.

And yet, he did as Uncle Vernon told him. He turned around and ran away.

Harry didn't know which way he was going. He only knew this: He was _never_ going back to the Dursleys'. Ever.

Then he had an idea. He would go to the Burrow, his favorite home in the world. He would spend time with the Weasleys, his favorite family in the world. He would be with Ron, his favorite friend in the world. And he would see (drool) Ginny, his favorite, favorite, favorite, favorite girl in the whole gosh darn universe.

Harry was so filled with emotion, that he decided to sing. And as it often happens in fanfictions, he decided to sing a popular pop song. Why? Usually the reason is because the author of the story likes that song. And if the author of the fanfiction is truly evil, as the author of this story is, almost all of the song's lyrics are included for the reader to "Enjoy".

So Harry started singing "Breakaway" by Kelly Clarkson, which the author, in this case, has listened to about 4,000 times.

"La, la, la, la, da, da! La, la, la, la, da, da! Da, da, la, da, la, la, la, la, la!", sang Harry Potter, not sure if Kelly Clarkson was singing "La" or "Da".

"Grew up in a small town,

And when the rain would fall down,

I'd just stare out my window.

Dreamed I never could be,

And if I'd end up happy,

I would pray.

Trying not to reach out,

But when I tried to speak out,

Felt like no one could hear me.

Wanted to belong here,

But something felt so wrong here,

So I'd pray,

I could break away".

As Harry ran down the sidewalk, singing more emotionally with each step he took, he streteched out his wings, as though he were flying.

"I'll spread my wings", sang Harry, "And I'll learn how to fly. I'll do what it takes, till I touch the sky. I'll make a wish, take a chance, make a change, and break away. Out of the darkness, and into the sun, I won't forget the place I come from--"

CRASH!

Harry fell to the ground. He had been so busy singing and pretending to fly, that he hadn't looked both ways before crossing the street, and had been hit by a car.

Meanwhile, back at the Dursleys', an unknown conversation was taking place.

"So", said Greg the Goblin. "You put the wand in his pocket?".

"Yes", said Bagman happily. "Now he'll be shipped off to Azkaban for the crime".

While this was happening, the Dursleys were cleaning out Harry's room.

"Hey", said Dudley. "Where did these pants come from?".

And so he put them on. They fit perfectly.


	9. Escape from the Hospital

Harry Potter woke up. He felt weird. His head hurt. His mind was foggy.

"W-where am I?", whispered Harry, because this was always what someone said when they had woken up after being knocked out.

"You're in the hospital", said Dr. House. "No thanks to me, I'll tell you that much".

("You're in the hospital", by the way, is the most common answer one recieves when they say "Where am I?" after they have been knocked out. Frodo was an exception to this. Sort of.)

Harry couldn't believe he was in the hospital. In fact, he couldn't remember much at all.

"Wait a minute", said Harry, suddenly. And then, he asked the second question that people always ask after they have been knocked out (Again, Frodo was an exception. Sort of.): "Why am I here?".

"You're here", said Dr. House, clutching his cane tightly, "Because you were hit by a car".

"I was?", said Harry blankly. Then, all of a sudden, he remembered everything. How Aunt Marge had died on the sidewalk. How the Dursleys had kicked him out of their house forever. How he had sung "Breakaway". How he had spread out his wings and pretended to fly. And how he had been hit by a car.

Once he had remembered all of this, he knew what he had to do.

"I have to finish the song", Harry announced.

"WHAT!", said Dr. House, his eyes bulging.

Harry cleared his throat and began singing.

"Wanna feel a warm breeze,

Sleep under a palm tree,

Feel the rush of the ocean,

Get on board a fast train,

Trottle on a jet plane,

Far away,

And break away".

Now, once again, Harry spread out his wings as though he were flying.

"I'll spread my wings", he sang, "And I'll learn how to fly. I'll do what it takes, till I touch the sky, I'll take a--"

"ENOUGH!", yelled Dr. House, smacking Harry across the face with his cane.

"Ow", said Harry. "Why'd you do that?".

"Because I'm a doctor, not an 'American Idol' judge", snapped Dr. House, and he left the room.

"He was remarkably out of character", Harry said to himself. "Probably had something to do with the fact that the author hasn't seen a single episode of the show". And Harry, of course, was right.

The day was pretty boring. Harry got to read a Muggle newspaper ("So, Renne was never actually married? Sweet!"), watch "Sesame Street", eat dog food, and take a nap. But, for the most part, he was incredibly bored.

"I'm incredibly bored", said Harry.

But he wasn't bored for much longer, because Dr. House started operating on some sick guy in another room, and Harry soon heard terrible screams.

It wasn't until night had fallen when, from out of nowhere, Hermione Granger entered the hospital.

"What are you doing here?", said Harry.

"I'm here to bust you out", said Hermione. "And I'm going to take you to the Burrow to stay with the Weasleys".

"How did you know I was here?", asked Harry.

"I live with Muggles, Harry", said Hermione. "I saw that you had been hit by a car on the news".

"Oh", said Harry. "Well, then, let's go".

So Harry and Hermione left the hospital. It was no easy task. Hermione had to snatch the keys to the exit from Dr. House, who of course was sleeping with them, and when she finally had them, Harry reminded her that they could've left through the fire escape. Sure enough, there was a fire just then, and Hermione and Harry _did_ exit through the fire escape. Dr. House did not.

"How did that happen?", said Harry.

"Never mind", said Hermione. "Let's get out of here".

And they ran off into the dark streets of London, not noticing that someone was watching them.

It was Voldemort's Single Most Trusted Agent, who had caused the fire in an attempt to kill Harry Potter.

"You won't get away from me", said Voldemort's Most Trusted Agent. "Because you trust me".


	10. Mr Weasley's Concerns

"Oh, Harry!", said Mrs. Weasley as soon as he and Hermione had entered the Burrow. "How great it is to see you!".

"Hello, Harry", said Fred and George in perfect unison. "Glad to have you back".

"Hello, Harry", said Ron. "Nice to see you again".

"Hello, Harry", said Bill. "Glad you could make it for the wedding".

"Hello, Harry", said Fleur Delacour. "Wait till you see my wedding dress".

"Hello, Harry", said Crookshanks. "Remind Hermione to feed me".

"Hello, everyone!", said Harry, sick of being greeted by now.

It was then when he realized something.

"Mrs. Weasley", said Harry after he had counted everyone who had said "Hello" to him on his fingers. "Where's your husband".

"Oh, Arthur left soon after Hermione told him that you were in the hospital", said Mrs. Weasley. "He was probably going to try to get you out".

So Harry sat down on a sofa and began watching the news on his iPod ("In late breaking news, actor Hugh Laurie has gone missing"). Harry was just about to download one of his favorite songs in the world, "Breakaway", when the door opened.

"Good evening, Weasleys", said Arthur Weasley.

"Hello, Arthur", said Mrs. Weasley.

"Hello, father", said Fred and George in perfect unison.

"Hello, dad", said Ron.

"Sup, pops", said Bill.

"Hello, daddy", said Fleur Delacour.

"Greetings", said Crookshanks.

"Hello, Mr. Weasley", said Hermione.

_Enough, _thought Harry.

"Hello, everyone", said Mr. Weasley. "Now, Harry, could I have a word?".

"Sure", said Harry.

"In the toilet, perhaps?", said Mr. Weasley.

"Uh...", said Harry, following Mr. Weasley into the bathroom.

"Now, Harry", said Mr. Weasley, locking the door shut as he seated Harry on the toilet. "I don't like it, I just don't like it one little bit".

"About what, Mr. Weasley?", asked Harry.

Mr. Weasley was pacing around the small bathroom. "There are things happening, Harry, things that I don't like you getting into".

"Such as?", said Harry.

"Such as the hospital burning down and you escaping!", said Arthur. "Don't you realize that that was no quinky-dinky? Someone, probably one of the You-Know-Who's followers, wanted you dead. If only you had stayed a little longer..."

"I would've died", Harry started.

"You would've seen who was trying to kill you!", said Mr. Weasley. "Harry, there's been so many arrests made lately--Catherine Zeta-Jones is now in jail--and every single one of them has been made to make things look better than they are. I hear things from Alastor Moody. He knows perfectly well that we haven't found so much as one Death Eater in recent memory. If we could find who's _really _behind this, maybe we could release..."

"Hang on", interupted Harry. "Catherine Zeta-Jones is actually a witch?".

"That's beside the point", said Mr. Weasley, waving his hand in the air. "Harry, I just want you to keep your eyes open, understand?".

"Yeah", said Harry.

"I don't want you to mention this conversation to the others", said Mr. Weasley, making his voice very low. "But someone wants you dead, and we need to find out who it is".

"Someone's _always_ trying to kill me", Harry pointed out.

"Again, that's beside the point", said Mr. Weasley, unlocking the bathroom door. "Oh, and one more thing".

Mr. Weasley put his face very, very close to Harry's.

"You do _trust_ me, don't you, Harry?"

Harry backed away. "Yeah. Sure. Of course".

Mr. Weasley smiled.

"Good", he said warmly. "Now, let's join the family for dinner".

But when they opened the door, the living room was empty.


	11. Where the hell are they?

Harry Potter and Arthur Weasley looked around the empty living room.

"Where the hell did everybody go?", said Harry.

"I don't know", said Mr. Weasley. "Perhaps we should start a search".

"Yeah", said Harry. "But wait a minute. What if this was the work of Voldemort?".

"Don't speak his name", said Mr. Weasley harshly.

"Sorry", whispered Harry.

"Well", said Mr. Weasley. "Maybe we should start by going upstairs?".

"That may be a good idea", said Harry.

"Harry! Arthur! Come into the kitchen for dinner!"

"GAH!", yelled Harry. "That's the voice of Mrs. Weasley!".

Mrs. Weasley came out of the kitchen. "What on earth are you two doing?".

"Uh...", began Mr. Weasley.

"Hang on", said Harry. "It's very late at night. Why the heck are we having dinner at this hour?".

"Beats me", said Mrs. Weasley.

So everyone went the kitchen and had a very long dinner. Harry chatted with Ron, Hermione, Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley, Crookshanks, Bill, Fleur, Fred and George.

Then, Harry began to panic.

"OHMYGOD, WHERE'S GINNY!".

Everyone stared at Harry.

"You've got a bit of beef sticking out of your teeth", said Ron.

"WHERE IS SHE!", demanded Harry, getting up from his seat and knocking the table over. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH HER!".

"She's in her room", said Molly Weasley. "I assume she's sleeping".

All of a sudden, Harry felt very, very stupid.

So he went to the bathroom and flossed his teeth.

Meanwhile, in her bedroom, Ginny wasn't sleeping at all.

Which could only mean...

She was awake.

Writing her thoughts in another magical diary.

"Dear, Diary", Ginny wrote. "I can't believe that Harry Potter has found his way back into my life. I thought that I got over him. But I can't. I just can't!".

Then, Ginny waited for the diary to respond.

It didn't.

"Damn", said Ginny.

She then hid the diary under her bed. If her father found out about it, why, he'd just go crazy.

Far, far away in Voldemort's Top Secret Lair, the Dark Lord himself was incredibly pleased by how things were going.

"At last!", he said. "Harry Potter has left the Dursleys. Now I can finally dispose of his remaining relatives..."


	12. His One True Love

When Harry Potter woke up the next morning, he was still very sleepy, because he had been up half the night trying to figure out who it was who had burned down the hospital.

No, that wasn't it. He had actually been up all night wondering why Mr. Weasley had warned him to be extra careful in such a suspicious way.

And, of course, there was another thing that kept him up all night, causing him to do insane things like making love to his pillow.

"Ginny", he whispered.

He couldn't deny it. He was deeply in love with her. He had no idea why it had taken him so long to realize it.

After all, at the end of the fifth book, he thought that he might be in love with Luna Lovegood!

Perhaps it was because Ginny had always loved him. She had loved him before he even knew who he was. And he had saved Ginny's life. And she had saved his. Well, no, she hadn't saved his. Maybe she would someday. In fact, maybe she would die saving...

Harry Potter stopped himself from finishing that thought. It would be just like JK Rowling to kill off a character as fragile as Ginny Weasley.

"I was right to dump her", he whispered. "After all, it is the people who are close to me who seem to be the ones to die. Dumbledore. Sirius. Aragog".

Harry gulped before he whispered the next two words, fighting back tears.

"My parents".

Harry lost the fight. The tears fell from his eyes as if they were having a race with one another, seeing who could reach Harry's chin first.

"I miss my parents!", Harry sobbed. "I miss them so much, even though I never knew them!".

If the reader of this fanfiction isn't crying by now, than he (or she) has a BLEEPING HEART OF STONE, PROBABLY HAS NO SOUL AND SHOULD GO JUMP OFF A CLIFF RIGHT NOW!!!

(By the way, don't forget to review this story. After all, everyone loves reviews. Especially good ones.)

(People who give fanfictions as hilarious as this one bad reviews HAVE NO SENSE OF HUMOR and their opinion DOESN'T MATTER AT ALL!!!)

(And another thing: This story hasn't been updated in nearly a year. This is, of course, because the author has been busy, and not because he has been to lazy to continue it. Or maybe it was because he wasn't getting enough reviews for his incredibly hard work)

After Harry Potter looked at the ceiling for a very long time thinking about his parents, he decided to go downstairs to see if anyone was up yet.

No one was.

That's because they were outside.

Getting ready for a wedding.

Yes, they were having the wedding at home.

Because John Ashcroft would probably kill the author of this story for having Harry Potter so much as walk into a church.

That was of course only a joke.

Sort of.

In any case, when Harry Potter walked outside, he saw the Weasleys eagerly preparing for Fleur and Bill's wedding.

Ginny, however, was nowhere in sight.

'Where's Ginny?", Harry asked.

"AAAAHHH!!!", screamed all of the Weasleys but Ginny, startled to see him

"AAAHHH!!!", screamed Harry, startled by the Weasley's sudden screaming.

"AAAHHHH!!", screamed both Harry and the Weasleys, just because that's always the way this joke ends.

"Harry", said Mrs. Weasley, placing a hand over her chest. "Don't you know better than to startle us like that".

"I didn't know you were that easily startled", gasped Harry, also placing a hand over his chest. "So, anyway, where's Ginny?".

"I imagine she's still in bed", said George (or was it Fred?).

"In bed", Harry whispered, his eyes growing misty.

"Yes", said Fred (or was it George?). "She sleeps in this time of year".

The thought of Ginny's beautiful body sleeping in her beautiful bed next to her beautiful dresser in her beautiful bedroom was so beautiful that Harry Potter could hardly speak.

"If I'm correct", said Mrs. Weasley, setting up a table cover using magic, "She's taken to sleeping in her birthday suit lately".

Harry's jaw just sort of fell open.

He was completely overwhelmed by his love for Ginny.

He would go upstairs and ask her to marry him.

And, as an added bonus, she would be naked.

Harry ran up the stairs, his chest pounding. He knew he was a fool. He knew that this could lead to Ginny's demise. But he didn't care. He had to marry her. Or, at least, catch her while she was wearing her birthday suit.

He reached Ginny's room. He spat in his palm so he could make his hair a little neater (as if!).

And he opened the door to her room without even knocking.

Sure enough, there was Ginny Weasley.

She was wearing a suit that read "HAPPY BIRTHDAY".

Harry rolled his eyes. This had to be THE worst joke in fanfiction history.

"Why aren't you naked?", Harry asked before he could stop himself.

"Because I'm dressed", said Ginny thickly. It appeared that she hadn't gotten much sleep either.

Harry was at a loss for words. He didn't know what to say.

"I'm Harry", he said finally, raising out his hand so she could shake it.

"I know that", said Ginny.

"Of course", mumbled Harry. Why had he been so stupid?

"So, has Percy arrived yet?", asked Ginny, clearly eager to start a conversation with him.

"Percy?", said Harry. "He's coming to the wedding?".

"I'm not sure", said Ginny. "Mum invited him, but Ron and the others keep saying he won't bother coming".

"Ah", said Harry, with a small chuckle. "Well, if he doesn't come, that means an extra slice of cake for you".

Ginny glared at him.

"Are you saying that you think I eat too much cake?", she asked.

"Uh..."

But this awkward moment was interupted, for at that moment, an owl flew into Ginny's room and dropped a small package on Harry's lap.

"Oof", said Harry as the package fell into his lap.

Ginny giggled. She seemed to find it funny when he said "Oof".

"What's so funny?", asked Harry.

"Nothing", said Ginny, still giggling. "I just found it funny when you said 'Oof'".

"Oh", said Harry, blushing deeply. She _had _found it funny when he said "Oof".

How embarassing.

"So", said Ginny. "Let's see what's in the package, shall we?".

Harry opened the package. Inside was a small stick that would've looked like a magic wand were it not for the red ball at the end of it.

"It's my Horocrux Detector", said Harry, holding the very item that would lead to the death of a major character.

"Where'd you get it?", asked Ginny.

"I ordered it off the internet", explained Harry.

"The internet?", said Ginny, and she looked very thoughtful for a second. "What's the internet?".

Harry was about to explain exactly how the internet worked (does anyone actually know?), but the door of Ginny's room flung open before he could.

"He's here!", said Ron, looking astounded. "Percy's turned up for the wedding!".

Ron ran over to the window.

"You see!", he said, pointing to a car in the distance. "That's Percy! I'd reconize the odd Muggle cars the Ministry uses anywhere!".

"Get downstairs!", shouted Mrs. Weasley. "Everyone get ready to greet your brother".

"He's not my brother", said Mr. Weasley coldly. "And he's hardly my son".

"Oh, stop it!", said Mrs. Weasley. "For once, Arthur, treat your son with dignity".

There was a knock at the door.

Mrs. Weasley opened the door and hugged her son.

"Oh, Percy!", she sobbed. "It's so good to see you".

"Mum, you're strangling me", mumbled Percy.

"Sorry", said Mrs. Weasley, letting go of her son and letting him walk into the house.

"Hey there, Percy", said Harry, raising out his hand so Percy could shake it.

"Grrrrrr", growled Percy.

"Now, Percy", said Mr. Weasley sternly. "There will be no growling at Harry Potter at this house!".

"And why shouldn't there be?", snapped Percy. "After all, he's the one who brought you-know-who back, isn't he?".

"I didn't mean to", mumbled Harry.

"Of course you didn't mean to, but you still did it!", said Percy.

He stormed through the room.

"Grrrrrrr!", he growled. "Where's breakfast?".

Mrs. Weasley paused before she spoke.

"I'll go make some", said Mrs. Weasley. "What would you like, Percy dear?".

"Who cares?", said Percy. "Everything you cook tastes like crap. Not at all like the food I get at the ministry".

Tears started welling up in Mrs. Weasley's eyes, but she wouldn't let Percy see them.

"How about a cup of coffee?", she asked.

"Grrrrrr", growled Percy. "No! Your coffee tastes like shit! I'll make myself breakfast!".

Percy then began storming through the kitchen, opening cabinets without even using magic and digging through their contents.

"Grrrrrrr", he growled. "Forget breakfast! The world's greatest cook couldn't even make a decent meal with _this_ garbage! I'll show myself to my room".

He then stormed up the stairs, growling louder with each step he took.

"I'll be glad when the wedding's over", Ron mumbled over Mrs. Weasley's sobs.

And Harry couldn't help but agree.

At that very moment, Lord Voldemort was creeping up the driveway of No. 4 Privet Dr. It was time for him to _personally_ take care of the Dursleys.


	13. The Wedding

In the unlikely event that no one noticed that Percy was being an even bigger jerk than usual, there is a reason for this.

This is a fanfiction.

And unless the reader has never read a fanfiction before, he (or she) probably read the last chapter, shook his (or her) head, and said to himself (or herself), "How typical for a fanfiction to make a charcter like Percy into an even bigger jerk than usual. He was bad, yes, but not _that _bad".

The reader hasn't seen anything yet.

"I can't believe I'm showing up for my brother's wedding", said Percy, talking with his mouth full at the dinner table.

"Neither can I", said Mrs. Weasley, looking at her husband. "They grow up so fast, don't they?".

"That's not what I meant", said Percy, spitting out a potato. "This tastes awful!".

Mrs. Weasley frowned.

"I meant", said Percy, acting as though he hadn't complained about his mother's cooking for the fifth time that evening, "That I'm a very important man. I don't have time for silly weddings!".

"Den why did you show up?", asked Fleur, looking at her future brother-in-law with disgust.

"Because, if I'm honest", said Percy, looking at his future sister-in-law, "The bride has a nice arse, and I don't mind looking at it".

Percy grinned as Fleur dropped her fork on her plate, looking shocked.

"May I please be excused?", she asked.

"I've been wanting to ask that question all evening", said Percy.

Fleur glared at him.

"Of course you can", said Mrs. Weasley, who still didn't like Fleur very much.

Fleur got up from her seat and walked up the stairs to her room.

"There goes that nice arse!", Percy shouted at her as she left.

Harry, who had been very quiet for a long time now, noticed that Bill had made his hands into fists.

"So how long will you be staying with us?", he asked through gritted teeth.

"I'll be gone as soon as the wedding's over", and Percy. "Maybe sooner".

Percy had no idea how right he was when he said that.

"Well", said Hermione, trying to make conversation. "What have you been up to at the Ministry, Percy?".

"Oh, just trying to put a cloud over the memory of Professor Dumbledore", said Percy with a cold frown. "You wouldn't believe how many people keep saying that we should live up to his silly standards! We hated him at the Ministry when he was alive, and now we're supposed to worship him when he's--"

"Don't you _dare _finish that sentence!", growled Mr. Weasley.

POW!

Percy punched his father in the face, knocking him out of his chair.

"Aaahhhhh!", screamed Mr. Weasley from the floor. "My nose! My nose is bleeding!".

"I have the right to finish any sentence I want, father!", Percy shouted.

Harry looked down at the floor. Mr. Weasley looked as though he were going to jump up at pounce on his son, but he seemed to think better of it.

"I'm going to go wash my face", he said as he got up and went into the washroom.

Mrs. Weasley glared at Percy.

"Why don't you go to your room?", she asked as tears welled up in her eyes (again).

"Best thing you've said all evening!", said Percy.

He then got up from his seat and stormed up the stairs. "Grrrrrrrrrrrrr!", he went.

Everyone was very quiet (except for Mrs. Weasley, who was sobbing into the table cloth). Eventually, Mr. Weasley came out of the bathroom, wiping his nose.

"That boy is going to pay for what he's done!", he said, which made Mrs. Weasley sob still harder.

Finally, the day of the wedding arrived, which is a good thing, since the seventh Harry Potter book now has a date, meaning that the author is going to have to rush through his brilliant fanfiction.

Harry Potter put on his tuxedo. He knew that today would be a bittersweet day for him.

After today, he knew that he would have to leave and go off on his quest to destroy Lord Voldemort once and for all.

He was the chosen one, after all.

Just like Frodo, Anakin Skywalker, Luke Skywalker, Peter Parker, Superman, Eragon, the Pevensie children, that elf thingy in "The Dark Crystal", Kim Possible, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

He sat down on a bench in the Weasleys' backyard, watching the other guests arrive.

There were Hagrid and his gigantic brother (why was he here?), Profeser Mad-Eye Moody (who, being a recent victim of pointless fanfiction violence, now had _two_ magical eyes), Professor Lupin and Tonks (or, as they were known to the more cynical HP fans, "One romantic subplot too many"), Luna Lovegood (who Moody was keeping a close eye on), Jar Jar Binks, and various other characters who weren't worth naming.

"What a great day for a wedding", said Professor Lupin, taking a deep breath. "You can just smell the romance, can't you?".

"That's probably actually Gwarp you smell", said Hagrid with a small chuckle. "He don't smell too nice, do ya, Gwarp?".

Gwarp made a groaning noise before speaking.

"Noooooo raaaiin, Hagggrriidd", said Gwarp.

"Right", said Hagrid. "Gwarp can only shower when it's rainin', since no bathtub's big enough for 'im".

At this point, the reader is probably wondering what any of this conversation has to do with anything.

DON'T GO AWAY!!! A CHARACTER IS ABOUT TO DIE!!!!

"Isn't that odd?", said Professor Lupin, sniffing the air again. "Now I can smell the stench of death".

"That's probably Gwarp you smell", said Hagrid with a small chuckle. "He don't smell too nice, do ya, Gwarp?".

Gwarp made a small groaning nice before speaking.

"Can Gwarp smash him?", pointing to Jar Jar Binks.

"What?", said Hagrid, looking at Jar Jar, who was humming a song to himself.

"Gwarp SMASH!", yelled the giant, and he slammed his fist into the ground, missing Jar Jar and creating a small crater.

"GWARP!", yelled Hagrid. "We already talked about this. No smashin' anybody at the wedding".

DON'T SWITCH TO ANOTHER FANFICTION!!! IN THIS CHAPTER, A CHARACTER WILL DIE!!!

But it won't be Jar Jar.

Anyway, after much meaningless conversation among the characters who really served no purpose in this scene, the wedding began.

Harry watched as Fleur Delacour walked across the Weasleys' backyard, noticing Mad Eye Moody mouthing along to "Here Comes the Bride". He watched Fleur and Bill say their vows to each other.

And he noticed that Professor Lupin was acting kinda strangely.,

"Professor", said Tonks, looking at her boyfriend with concern. "You did take your potion tonight, didn't you?".

"No, of course not", said Lupin, drooling slightly but not looking too out of the ordinary. "Severus used to make my potion, remember? And since he's vanished..."

"But you're a _werewolf!",_ Tonks gasped. "You're dangerous when you haven't taken your potion".

"Nonsense, Tonks, my love", said Professor Lupin, his voice growling slightly. "Look! It's not even a full moon tonight".

Tonks looked up at the sky.

"There are clouds covering the moon", she said, looking very nervous indeed. "It could still be full for all we know".

"You worry too much!", Lupin barked at her (ha, ha, ha!). "Now, come, the wedding feast has begun".

So everyone, including Harry, sat down at the many tables which the Weasleys had set up.

"A toast", said Hagrid, rising from his seat. "To the happy couple".

"To the happy couple", everyone cried.

"May the bride's arse never change", said Percy.

Fleur gasped, but kept her anger to herself as she cut the cake.

"Vis is a very romantic night for a wedding", she purred to Bill, placing some cake into his mouth. "Look at the sky. The moon is full".

But Bill didn't seem to be paying attention to his new bride. In fact, as far as Harry could tell, the only thing that was catchig any of his interest was the moon.

"Does anyone else smell wet dog?", asked Tonks, notably not looking at Lupin or Bill.

"That's probably Gwarp you smell", said Hagrid with a small chuckle. "He don't smell too nice, do ya, Gwarp?".

Gwarp made a graoning noise before speaking.

"Weeerreewolvesss", he said.

"What?!", said Hagrid, finally taking notice that Lupin and Bill were both no longer there and that two huge, disgusting wolves now stood in their place.

"Blimey!", he gasped. "Ain't they jus' beautiful?".

Harry held his breath. He remembered that the last time Lupin had become a werewolf in front of him without taking his potion, he had turned into a dangerous monster. No one--not even his best friend in the world--would be safe from him. He would tear anyone in his path to shreds.

Of course, the reader already _knows all this_, so why is the author wasting time explaining it?

"Out of my way", shouted Percy, knocking Fleur to the ground as he ran over to her new husband. "There's only one way to deal with werewolves!".

"No!", shouted Fleur from the ground, but Percy just kicked her in the face.

"Quiet!", he growled, but he was grinning at her. "The day will come when you want to _thank me _for saving your life".

He pulled out his wand and pointed it at Bill.

"Till death do they part!", he whispered to himself, laughing a sinister laugh.

Then he looked his own brother in the eye before he shouted his curse.

"Avada--AAARRRRGGGGHHHHH!!!!!".

Bill had chomped off Percy's arm.

"NOOOO!!!!", shouted Percy, his eyes growing wide with terror. "YOU WILL NOT EAT ME!!".

"He may not, but I will!", growled Professor Lupin, suddenly revealing that he was able to talk even when he was a werewolf.

And with that, the former Hogwarts prefect found himself being stuffed headfirst into the deadly jaws of the savage beast.

There was so much commotion following Percy's death that Harry could barely hear himself think. Mrs. Weasley put her hands over her mouth and gasped, clearly at a loss for words. Bill and Lupin were tearing up the table, devouring everything on it, but otherwise leaving the guests alone. Mad-Eye Moody was trying to come up with a curse to stupify the werewolves, but couldn't manage to strike them. Jar Jar Binks was running around in circles screaming. Bill and George were having a mock moment of silence for their brother.

And Luna Lovegood was having a quiet conversation with Greg the Goblin.

_Greg the Goblin!??!_

"Luna!", shouted Harry, running over to them. "What the heck are you telling this creature?!?!".

"Oh, not much", said Greg the Goblin with an evil cackle. "She just told me who Dumbledore's most trusted agent was! HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!".

Harry looked at Luna. "How could you do something like that?!?".

Luna shrugged. "If he had been wearing oregano, he would've survived that attack".

"WHAT?!?", shouted Harry, once again having no idea what Luna was talking about.

"The boy", answered Luna. "The one who liked the bride's arse. He wouldn't have been eaten if he had been wearing oregano. God knows werewolves can't stand the stuff!".

"HAHAHAHAHA!!", cackled Greg the Goblin. "This is the best wedding I've ever been to! Now, Loony Lovegood, I think ye'll be coming with me!".

"Why?", sighed Luna, staring at her arm and picking at a scab.

"Because I'm kidnapping you!", said Greg the Goblin, waving his wand in the air and magically placing handcuffs around Luna's wrists.

"Okay", said Luna, who didn't seem alarmed at all.

"NO!", screamed Harry, and he was about to pull out his own wand to attack the fanfiction villain, but Greg grabbed Luna by the arm and snapped his fingers.

CRACK!

They were both gone.


	14. In Search of a Killer

Lord Voldemort was about to open the door of Number 4 Privet Dr. when he heard footsteps.

"Curses", hissed Lord Voldemort. "I'd better hide in case someone sees me here!".

So Lord Voldemort slipped under his invisibility cloak and held very still.

Two men walked over to the driveway. They were whispering to one another and taking notes. Even though Voldemort had never seen them before, he knew right away that they were wizards from the clothes they were wearing.

"Some wizards just don't know how to dress like filthy muggles", he said to himself.

"Did you say something?", asked one of the wizards to his friend.

"No", he answered. "Did you?".

"We've been through this", said the other wizard, looking annoyed. "I don't ask that question if I've said something".

"Then, you're probably imagining things again", said the other wizard.

"No, I'm not", said the other wizard. "I heard someone say that some people just don't know how to dress like filthy muggles".

"Oh", said the other wizard. "Well, there's some truth in that. Look at the way you're dressed".

"I look like your average, everyday muggle", answered the other wizard, who was wearing an Elvis Presley costume.

"Ha!", laughed the other wizard. "That's what you want people to think!".

"I don't think. I know", said the other wizard. "We came across those two muggles on the way here. They waved at us and said, 'Oh, look, there go two muggles just like us!'".

"That was your mum and dad", said the other wizard.

"How long is this going to last?", Voldemort asked himself in frustration.

The reader is probably wondering the same thing.

"So, remind me again why we're here?", asked one of the wizards.

"We are here", said the wizard dressed as Elvis Presley. "To investigate the murder of the muggle who died here".

"A muggle died here?".

"Yes", the wizard dressed as Elvis whispered. "On this very sidewalk".

"Gasp!", the other wizard gasped. "How are we gonna track down the killer".

"With magic, of course", said his friend. He pulled out a wand and waved it across the sidewalk.

"Blagamothaorogagin", he muttered, using magic words that the author just came up with randomly.

"What does that spell do?", asked the other wizard.

"It lets me know", he explained, pointing at the sidewalk as it changed color. "What type of wand was last used here. As you can see, the sidewalk is turning orange. That means, one can only assume, that the last wand used here was a goblin's wand. Therefore, the next person whom we find with a goblin's wand is our killer".

"Ah", said the other wizard. "So, we're after a bad boy, aren't we?".

"Yes", said the wizard, watching as the color faded from the sidewalk.

"Bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna, whatcha gonna do", sang the other wizard. "When they come a-lookin' for you".

"Oh, I LOVE that song!", shouted the other wizard, clapping his hands together. "Let's sing the whole thing".

And, to Voldemort's horror, they did just that.

Six times.

"But wait a second", said one of the wizards (don't these guys have names?) when they were finished singing. "What if the killer is in fact a woman?".

"That's right", said the other wizard, snapping his fingers. "We could be after a female criminal, like Paris Hilton".

"I do wish that I were a guard at the prison she's going to", said the other wizard with a chuckle. "After all, someone has to watch the inmates when they shower".

That last joke, of course, will date this chapter forever, since Paris will probably be _out _of jail by the time the author updates again.

"Well, right now we have a killer to catch", said the other wizard. "We can't daydream about Paris Hilton in handcuffs".

"But we can sing the song again", said the other wizard. "This time with 'Bad Girls' instead of 'Bad Boys'".

And they did.

Six times.

Finally, they left.

"At last", said Lord Voldemort, taking off his Invisibility Cloak. "I _so _wanted to kill those two".

He then grinned an evil grin. It was time.

"I can do it", he said, laughing a sinister laugh. "I can finally kill the Dursleys".

And so Lord Voldemort went back up the steps of Number 4 Privet Dr. and opened the door.

"Hello, Dursleys!", he shouted as he ran into the house. "Daddy's got a surprise for you".

"Keep it down, dad", said a voice from the living room. "I'm trying to watch television".

Lord Voldemort went into the living room to find Harry Potter's cousin sitting on a sofa.

"Hello, Durs--", he began to whisper, but he stopped dead in his tracks.

Dudley Dursley was wearing something that Lord Voldemort hadn't seen in years.

"My pants", he whispered. "Could those be...my beloved jeans?".

And with that, Lord Voldemort was so filled with emotion that his head exploded.

That of course didn't happen. The author is just playing a cruel joke to make sure that the reader is paying attention.

What _really_ happened is that Lord Voldemort killed Dudley and put the pair of jeans, which he had stitched together so many years ago, onto his butt.

It felt so good to be wearing them again.

And yet...he sensed something.

It was an awful feeling.

"It's...not possible", he whispered.

But there was no denying it.

"Harry Potter has worn my jeans", he muttered to himself.

He frowned. He couldn't stand that Harry Potter had actually worn the pair of pants that meant the world to him.

The pair of jeans...that reminded him of happiness.

The pair of jeans...that reminded him of the woman whom he had once loved.

The pair of jeans that reminded him of...

Lily Potter.


	15. After the Wedding

"Damn that Lovegood!", shouted Mad-Eye Moody when Harry had told him what had happened. "She'll be the death of us all!".

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I think I have something that'll help us defeat Voldemort", said Harry, pulling something out of his pocket and giving it to Moody.

Both of Moody's magical eyes went spinning over the device.

"What the heck is this thing, Potter?", Moody asked in a whisper.

"That", said Harry Potter proudly, "Is a Horocrux-Detector. I got it off the internet".

"Did ya, now?", asked Mad-Eye Moody, his voice still in a whisper. "From all of my understandings of the muggle world, if there's one thing a man can't trust, it's stuff they find on the internet".

"Yeah, well, it's worth a shot, isn't it?", asked Harry wth a shrug. "Besides, the website told me where we are to find the remaining pieces of Lord Voldemort's soul. One of them is in Diagon Ally, one of them is in Hogsmeade, and the other two are hidden at Hogwarts".

"Hogwarts?", gasped Moody, his voice in a softer whisper than ever. "Potter! Don't you get it? Someone is trying to bait you! Someone is setting a trap!".

"Nonsense", said Harry, taking the Horocrux Detector back from Moody and placing it back in his pocket. "After all, who would've even known that I was going to go on the internet that night?".

"I still don't like it, Potter", growled Moody. "I smell trouble".

"That's probably actually Gwarp you smell", said Hagrid with a chuckle. "He don't smell too nice, do ya, Gwarp?".

Meanwhile, across the yard, Lupin was appologizing to Mrs. Weasley about what had happened for the 10,000th time.

"I am terribly, terribly sorry for eating your son", he said sadly. "Although, if it makes you feel any better, he tasted quite delicious".

Mrs. Weasley continued to sob. "Just go!", she wailed. "Just go, you filthy werewolf!".

Suddenly, Lupin belched loudly in Mrs. Weasley's face.

"Pardon me", he said with a small blush. "It happens every time after I--".

"Remus!", Tonk's exclaimed. "Don't you realize what you just did to poor Molly Weasley? You burped the remains of her own son in her face!".

"I did?", said Lupin, rubbing his head a little as though trying to remember what had happened. "Oh, I guess...I did, didn't I?".

"I think it would be best if we left", whispered Tonks, taking Lupin by the arm and dragging him away.

"My appologies again, Molly!", Lupin called back to Mrs. Weasley as he walked off with his girlfriend. Harry could see the former Hogwarts teacher licking Tonks across the face, and he was not sure if this was a side effect of his transformation or just the author inserting pointless and disturbing sexual content into the story.

"Bloody hell", said Ron, shaking his head as he watched the couple walk off.

All of a sudden, Harry remembered that he hadn't told Ron and Hermione about the Horocrux Detector.

"Oh, Harry, I'm really not so sure about this", said Hermione as she held the strange device in her hands. "What if this is a trap set by you-know-who?".

"You mean Lord Voldemort", said Harry, doing the same obnoxious thing he always did to provoke people.

"Please don't say his name!", whispered Ron through gritted teeth.

"And be careful, Harry!", whispered Hermione through equally gritted teeth. "You shouldn't go believing stuff that you find on the internet!".

"Why ever not?", asked Harry.

"Because muggles can post anything that they want to on the internet", said Hermione matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, Harry", said Ron, looking over Hermione's shoulder to examine the Horocrux Detector in her hands. "You know, my dad had a friend in the ministry who believed everything that you read on the internet. He went to 'Youcaneatexplosivesandsurvivedotcom'".

"What happened to him?", asked Harry.

"He blew up", answered Ron simply.

Hermione dropped the Horocrux Detector on the ground and burst into tears.

"Oh, Harry, don't do it!", she sobbed, leaning over Harry's shoulder and hugging him. "Don't blow up!".

"Yeah, Harry, don't do it!", cried Ron, also bursting into tears and hugging Harry from the other side.

"You guys are gonna kill me!", mumbled Harry from between his two friends, but they didn't hear him. They cried and hugged Harry for about half an hour.

After this scene, worthy of a second-rate soap opera, was finally over, Harry picked back up the Horocurx Detector and placed his hand over his house.

"I swear", said Harry Potter, tears of determination rolling down his face. "I swear, on my father's grave, that Lord Voldemort will pay for what he did to my parents! That he will pay for all of the terror he has caused, all of the lives that he has ruined! I swear, on this very day, that I will kill him!".

Ron's mouth hung open for a second before he spoke.

"Your father is buried at my house?".

But Hermione hadn't been paying any attention to Harry's lame speech. She was too busy staring at his butt.

"Harry", she asked softly. "Where are the pants?".

"The what?", went Harry, who had no idea what Hermione was talking about.

"The Traveling Pants!", shouted Hermione. "The pair of jeans that fit on all three of our arses! The very piece of cloathing that was _supposed _to bind us together as friends!".

"Ah", said Harry, remembering the seemingly pointless plot element from the fourth chapter. " l left them at home".

Hermione then dropped so many F-bombs that the fanfiction would lose its T rating if the author typed so much as a fourth of them.

So, in an effort to keep things family-friendly, the author will bleep her out.

"YOU COMPLETE BLEEP!!!", shouted Hermione, her face growing red with fury. "YOU COMPLETE, ABSOLUTE BLEEP! DO YOU NOT GIVE A BLEEP ABOUT OUR FRIENDSHIP, YOU BLEEPER?!?! ARE YOU SO OBSESSED WITH KILLING YOU-BLEEPING-KNOW-WHO THAT YOU ARE GOING TO JUST FORGET EVERYTHING THAT'S IMPORTANT, YOU BLEEP?!?!".

"Killing Lord Voldemort is important!", growled Harry.

"DON'T SAY HIS BLEEPING NAME!!!", roared Hermione. "YOU DO THAT TO BLEEPING SCARE US, YOU BLEEP!! YOU COMPLETE MOTHERBLEEPER BLEEP!!".

"Blimey, Hermione!", gasped Ron, his eyes growing a bit wide. "Since when do you talk like that?".

Hermione took a deep, long breath before answering.

"I don't know", she said finally. "For some reason, fanfiction authors see me that way".

"This is getting us nowhere!", shouted Harry. "Right now we have an incredibly important choice to make: We can either go about finding the pieces of Lord Vol-er, you-know-who's soul with my handy Horocrux Detector, or we can do a step-by-step rip-off of what J.K. Rowling wrote in the seventh book".

"That's right", said Ron, scratching his beard. "This is an AU now".

"You have a beard?", went Hermione, looking at Ron's chin and drooling slightly.

"Haven't you noticed?", asked Ron.

"Er, no, I haven't", went Hermione, growing very pink.

"Well, what do you think of it?", said Ron, getting very close to Hermione's face. "Do you want---to bite it?".

"ENOUGH!!!", shouted Harry, trying to prevent an overly graphic Hermione/Ron sex scene from taking place. "Let's go kill you-know-who!".

"Okay", said Ron, looking into Hermione's eyes.

"Whatever you say, Harry", said Hermione, giggling slightly.

"Fine", said Harry, pulling out his wand and holding it very close to his face. "We've got some Death Eater arse to kick!".

The author is hoping that T-shirts with that saying will be available someday at Hot Topic.

Meanwhile, far away from this dramatic scene, Lord Voldemort was sitting in the living room of the Dursleys' house, trying to remmeber his past.

It had been so long ago. When he had sewn together a magical pair of pants by candlelight. How he had cast a spell on them that would make the wearer feel the warmth of the last person who had worn them.

He remembered how he had left them at Lily's front door one day. How he had watched her open the door and notice a small package at her feet. He thought about how she had been so overwhelmed with emotion upon seeing them that her head exploded. And he wondered why the author thought it would be funny to play that joke twice.

Lily Potter took the jeans into her house. She went to the toilet. When she came out of the toilet, she was wearing the jeans (Voldemort knew all of this because he could see through walls back then).

She went outside. She danced around in the jeans. She sang, "These are the best bloody jeans I have ever worn! I am so happy!".

It was then when she heard a giggle from somewhere.

"Who's there?", she asked.

No answer.

"I heard someone giggle", she whispered. "Is someone spying on me?".

She then heard the laugh again. This time she knew that it had come from a bush.

Lord Voldemort covered his mouth. He didn't want Lily to find him.

But his wish did not come true. Lily opened the bush that he was hiding in and gasped.

"Oh, my God!", she gasped. "What is wrong with your face, young man?".

"Nothing", said Lord Voldemort, trying to get out of her view. "It was just a little sunburn, that's all".

Lily examined him for a moment. "You remind me of someone", she said after looking at him for a bit. "Have we met before?".

"I can't say that we have", muttered Lord Voldemort, still trying to stay out of her view. "I really must be going".

He climbed out of the bush. For the first time, Lily saw his face in the sunlight.

"I think...I've seen you in the papers", she said, rubbing her chin. "Are you a famous actor?".

"Uh...yes", said Lord Voldemort, turning away from her. "I'm Russel Crowe, and I'll throw a telephone at you if you don't give me my bloody pants back!".

"These are your pants?", she asked. "Well, if you want them back, you can have them".

She then took them off. Outside. In the front yard.

Lord Voldemort noticed that Lily shared Britney's bad habit of not wearing underwear.

Not that he was complaining, of course.

"Here are your pants back, Mister Crowe", she said as she gave them to him. "I must say that you are one lucky devil. They made my bum feel lovely".

"Thanks", said Lord Voldemort, grabbing his pair of pants and running off into the woods.

_Yes, _Lord Voldemort thought. _It was very long ago._

He was now sitting in the chair that Dudley had been sitting on when he had killed him (And, just so the reader knows how sick and twisted the author's mind is, we will insert here that Voldemort ate Dudley after he murdered him). He was deep in thought. He couldn't stop thinking about Lily Potter.

"I loved her", he whispered to himself. "But she didn't give a fook about me until I killed her".

He placed his hands over his face. "I killed her! I killed the woman that I loved!".

He then stood up and placed his hands over his bottom. "And my pants don't even feel like her anymore! They feel like Harry Potter!!".

He looked up at the sky and shouted to the heavens.

"I WILL GET YOU FOR THIS, HARRY POTTER!!!", he shouted. "I WILL GET YOU FOR WEARING MY SPECIAL PAIR OF PANTS!!! I SWEAR, HARRY POTTER, THAT I WILL KILL YOU FOR THIS!!!".

Lord Voldemort paused after he said this and collected himself.

"Oh, right", he muttered. "I was going to do that anyway".


	16. The Prisoner

"It's dark in here", Luna said blankly as she was lead into an interegation room by the tiny hands of Greg the Goblin.

"That's because I've put a bag over your head", snapped Greg. "Now, if you tell me everything you know about _it, _I might take it off".

"Sorry, but I can't tell you that", said Luna simply. "I've been told not to tell anyone".

"But aren't ya afraid of the dark?", asked Greg. "I thought that all girls were afriad of the dark!".

"No, I rather like it", sighed Luna. "It makes me feel like I'm asleep when I'm actually awake".

Greg let out a small laugh. "Fine, then, you're not afraid the dark", he cackled. "But I have other ways of making you talk!".

"But I'm not supposed to tell anyone", said Luna.

"Exactly!", shouted Greg, slapping Luna across the knee. "Which is why the Dark Lord wants me to get you to tell me _everything". _

"No one call tell you _everything",_ Luna said with a muffled giggle. "No one on earth knows everything. Why don't you just talk to a very old tree?".

"Because I'm a villain and I hate trees!", snapped Greg, spitting on Luna's foot. "Now, I'm going to spit on ya again if you don't start talking".

"Haven't I been talking?", asked Luna, sounding confused.

"YOU HAVEN'T BEEN TALKING ABOUT 'IT'!!!", shouted Greg, jumping up and down. "TELL ME WHAT MAD-EYE MOODY TOLD YOU NOT TO TELL ANYONE, OR ELSE I'LL TAKE DRASTIC ACTION!!!".

"What could possibly be more drastic than spitting on me?", asked Luna.

"Oh, you think that's all I can do?", said Greg with a cackle, clearly amused. "I can do many things to hurt you, Luna Lovegood!".

"Like what?".

Greg jumped in the air and tore the bag off of Luna's head. She blinked blankly.

"Don't you know who I am?", asked Greg, his large eyes bulging at her.

"Of course I do", said Luna simply. "You're Greg the Goblin, the most wanted goblin in all of London".

"CORRECT!!", shouted Greg, and he spat on Luna's foot again. "And what does that make me? Someone who you should just play stupid with? No! It makes me someone you should _fear_!".

"What are those?", asked Luna, not even making eye contact with Greg and staring across the room.

"What are what?!?!", snapped Greg, slapping Luna across the knee another time. "Are you not paying attention to a word I tell you?!?!".

"No", asked Luna, still staring across the room.

Greg jumped into Luna's lap and got very, very close to her face.

"I can hurt you, girl", he whispered. "I can torture you. I can tear off your finger nails. I can make you listen to 'Mr. Lonely' twenty five times in a row. I can even _rob you of your virginity_"

"Oh, no thank you", answered Luna. "I'm not a virgin".

"Then I'll just lock you up!", shouted Greg, exasperated.

The villain then lead Luna across the room, changed her into a bondage outfit and locked her up inside a small cage.

"Let's see if you talk now!", he shouted at her as he left the interegation room. "If I were you, I'd start talking before I went mad from being in captivity".

"Lonely", Luna sang from inside the cage. "I'm Miss Lonely. I have nobody. For my own".

"Well, it may already be too late for that", sighed Greg as he shut the door.

"Did you get here to talk?", asked Bagman eagerly when he saw the goblin exit the interegation room.

"Not yet", growled Greg. "I'm wondering if she even knows how important the information that she carries is".

"You've got to get her to talk", said Bagman, looking a little nervous. "You-know-who is counting on us!".

"He's counting on _me!_", growled Greg. "The Dark Lord doesn't even like you".

"I didn't know that he liked anyone", said Bagman.

"Well, what matters at the end of the day is that we keep our heads on", said Greg. "Which is why we're going to have to lie to the Dark Lord".

Ludo Bagman spat out the fruit punch that he was drinking.

"Lie to the Dark Lord?!?!", he choked. "Are you insane?!?! We could never get away with something like that".

"Leave it to me", said Greg with a small smile. "Us goblins are very good liars. That's why so many of us become lawyers".

"But what if he finds out?", whispered Ludo Bagman, shaking in his knees. "He'll surely have us killed!".

"He won't find out because I'm going to tell the lie", said Greg simply. "You're not going to tell him anything".

"What are you going to tell him?", gulped Bagman.

"I'm going to tell him", said Greg with a truly evil grin, "That Luna Lovegood had a sore throat when I was questioning her, which is why she didn't tell me anything".

"But he'll know that you're bluffing!", yelled Bagman. "I can hear her singing from out here!".

"You idiot!", snapped Greg. "I already have a solution for that".

He then grabbed Bagman's juice box and spat into it.

"Give this to our prisoner", he said, handing it to him.

"Uh..Okay", said Bagman, looking sadly at what was once his beverage.

Bagman entered the interegation room and shut the door behind him. Five minutes later, he was back out, clutching his throat.

"Well", said Greg, rubbing his fists together. "Did she drink the juice or not?".

Bagman didn't answer.

"Answer me, you fool!", shouted Greg, kicking Bagman in the foot. "Don't tell me that you couldn't get her to drink the juice!".

Bagman still didn't answer.

It took Greg over an hour to figure out what had happened.

"You idiot!", shouted Greg. "She got _you _to drink the juice, didn't she!?!?"

Bagman nodded.

"You complete fool!!", shouted Greg. "What are we going to do if the Dark Lord finds out about this?".

"If he finds out about what?", asked a cold, icy voice.

Bagman and Greg both nearly jumped out of their skin. In the corner of the room, wearing a pair of jeans, was Lord Voldemort.


	17. Hiding in the Woods

There was something that no one knew about Sirius Black.

He was still alive.

Even he didn't know why. He knew that he should be dead. And yet, he wasn't. He assumed that it had something to do with the curtain or whatever it was that he had fallen into, but he wasn't sure. In any case, he was never one to ponder it very often.

What he did know for certain, though, was that he needed to hide in the woods. For if anyone saw him alive, it would ruin his plan.

The plan that he had been planning out for years.

The plan to play the ultimate Halloween prank at Hogwarts.

His plan was to go there during the Halloween dinner to frighten everyone. Because everyone believed him to be dead, he was sure that the sight of him would scare all of the students shitless. Nevertheless, to ensure that his prank went well, he had cast a spell on his eyes which kept them open all the time without ever blinking. This was to make him look like a zombie.

Right now, though, there was nothing too unusal about the appearance of Sirius Black, for he was currently disguised as a dog. Of course, he was also a dog that couldn't blink, but so long as no one got to look at him for too long a period, he was safe from discovery.

It was then when he heard foot steps.

He didn't bother to hide, since he was a dog, and unless it was Fang, Hagrid's secretly cannibalistic dog, he had nothing to be afraid of.

It turned out that the foot steps were coming from two figures. One of them appeared to be a young, blonde, incredibly angsty teenager. The other one had greasy black hair and a dark robe.

He instantly knew that these two were none other than Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape.

"Are we there yet, Professor?" whined Draco. "My feet are killing me."

"Maybe your feet wouldn't be killing you if you had just killed Dumbledore like you were supposed to," snarled Snape. "And to answer your question, we are almost at the meeting place."

"I still don't know why we have to do this," said Draco. "I could care less about what's going on with the Death Eaters. Why can't I just go back home?"

"You can't go back home until we know for certain that the Dark Lord doesn't have a price on your head for disobeying his orders," said Snape. "Besides, didn't we already have this conversation over a week ago?"

"Probably," said Draco. "I'm guessing that we're having it again just so the reader can know what's going on."

"I hate it when that happens," sighed Snape.

Sirius soon observed another figure approaching Snape and Draco. He didn't know who it was, but he assumed it was a Death Eater.

"Greetings, Severus," said the Death Eater. "Are you ready to perform the secret handshake?"

"There is no way that I am spitting into the palm of my hand just so I can shake it with your own," answered Snape coldly. "What news do you have for us?"

"Plenty, Severus," he said with a nod. "Some of which is most pleasing. I'm afraid, however, that I don't know anything regarding the fate of the boy."

Draco hung his head down.

"Why didn't you do it, Malfoy?" the Death Eater asked him with exasperation. "Why didn't you kill Dumbledore?"

"I couldn't do it," Draco muttered.

"Why not?"

"Because..."

"Because what?"

"Because I had an unexpected moment of...of..."

"Of what? Mercy? Second thoughts? What pathetic excuse to you have for not following the Dark Lord's orders?"

"I had a moment of character development," said Draco very quickly. "That's what it was."

Snape and the Death Eater stared at him.

"I didn't used to be that way!" he cried. "I used to just be a mean, unlikable little boy who ripped off James Bond whenever he told someone his name."

He then began crying.

"And I didn't used to cry!" he cried. "I didn't even cry during the ending of 'Titanic'! What's wrong with me?!" He began to blow his nose on his own shrit.

"Enough of this!" snarled Snape. "I didn't walk all this way just to feel like I'm watching an episode of Oprah!" He turned to the Death Eater. "What is it that you have to tell me?"

"You should be delighted, Severus," said the Death Eater with a smile growing on his face. "There have been things revealed about Dumbledore lately that might turn more people to the Dark Lord's cause."

Snape looked unconvinced. "What sort of things?"

"Plenty!" the Death Eater practicually burst out. "You have no idea how many secrets that Dumbledore carried with him to his grave! He was actually a fan of Jar Jar Binks. Uwe Boll was his favorite movie director. He enjoyed the 'Scooby-Doo' movie!"

"All of that it is merely trivial," Snape responded. "Do you have anything that actually matters?"

"I've saved the best for last," the Death Eater told him proudly. "Rita Skeeter found out that Dumbledore...was gay!"

Sirius Black was stunned beyond words. For there was another thing about him that nobody knew. He, too, was gay. And he was madly in love with Severus Snape.

Draco Malfoy appeared to be almost as shocked by the news as he was.

"But that doesn't make any sense at all," he said. " Dumbledore couldn't have been a closeted homosexual. Wasn't he all about accepting mudbloods and stuff like that? Wasn't he one to embrace homosexuals?"

"It would seem," said the Death Eater with a chuckle, "that he was doing more _embracing_ of them than we might've originally thought."

He then fell over laughing. Snape did not look amused.

"Is this really the best thing that the author could come up with?" he said with disgust. "He hasn't updated this thing in almost two years, and the best thing that he can do is make some cheap gay jokes?"

"Apparently, that's the case," said the Death Eater, but he continued laughing anyway.

"Besides, it's not even news to me," said Snape. "I knew about Dumbledore's secret long before he died."

The Death Eater finally stopped laughing.

"What are you saying, Sevurus?" asked the Death Eater. "Are you meaning to say that you knew that Dumbledore was gay all along?"

"You forget, my good sir, that I needed to earn his complete trust," said Snape. "I knew that I was on the right path one Monday morning when Dumbledore himself told me that he had something that he wanted to show me. He then opened up his closet door and revealed that it was full of dresses."

"Merlin's Beard!" the Death Eater exclaimed. "What happened then?"

"He wanted for me to put one of them on so he could take my photo," said Snape simply. "Naturally, I refused. But I did agree to let him stroke my hair every now and again, as a way to continue holding his good trust."

"You let him stroke your hair?" the Death Eater gasped. "Did he ever do anything more to you than that?"

Snape ignored him.

"The news that you have given me is completely useless," he said. "Most wizards think too highly of Dumbledore to think him capable of keeping secrets, and even if they believe the things that they hear about him, it will probably do little more than earn him more sympathy."

The Death Eater frowned.

"I thought that you'd be happy with me," he said softly.

"I will not be happy," said Snape, "Until you find out what the Dark Lord intends to do with Malfoy! I'm not sure if I can last much longer camping with him out here in the woods before I'm forced to behead him."

Draco looked extremely uneasy.

"Very well," said the Death Eater, looking very grumpy. "I will try to find out what you wish to know."

"If you can't," said Snape coldy, "Don't even bother coming back."

"I do have some news for you that might interest you a bit," said the Death Eater. "It involves none other than Harry Potter himself. I've heard that he's found the fake website that the Dark Lord put on the muggle internet for him, and that's he taken the bait."

"Proving that he is even more like his father than I originally thought," said Snape. "Now, leave us. Me and the boy have to set up our tent for the night."

The Death Eater bowed his head down and went off on his eay. Snape didn't even bother waving goodbye to him.

Not too far away, Voldemort was shouting the Elder Swear and Bagman and Greg for how they had handled their prisoner.

And at the same time, the Phantom of the Opera was sneaking into Hogwarts. It was finally time for him to get his revenge.


	18. An Epic Battle

"Potter's Log, date unimportant. I have taken my two sidekicks Ron and Hermione with me on a dangerous mission to destroy the remaining pieces of Lord Voldemort's soul. We have reached Diagon Alley which, if what on the internet is true, holds one of the..."

"Cut it out, Harry!" moaned Ron. "You're annoying me and Hermione."

"Yes," added Hermione. "And what do you mean by _sidekicks_?"

"I guess that's the way that he's always seen us, Hermy," said Ron. "Harry Potter's silly sidekicks, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger."

All of a sudden, Hermione looked excited.

"Do that again," she whispered.

"Do what again?"

"Call me what you just called me."

"Harry Potter silly sidekick?"

"No, the other thing you just called me."

"Hermy?"

"Yes!," cried Hermione. "Call me that again!"

She looked at Ron with hunger in her eyes. Ron grinned at her.

"Hermy," he growled. "Hermy, Hermy, Hermy!"

Apparently overwhelmed by this, Hermione began to take off her dress.

"You know what I think?," she said, with a very, very dirty look on her face. "I think that I have to go to the toilet. Do you have to go as well?"

"Nah," replied Ron, shaking his head and scratching her beard. "I just went a few minutes ago."

Then he understood what Hermione meant.

"Actually, now that you mention it," he said, starting to get a look on his face that was almost as dirty as Hermy's, "I do think that I have to go. I _did_ drink a lot of coffee this morning."

And despite Harry's protests, Ron quickly picked up Hermione and carried her into a nearby bathroom. He thought that he noticed Hermione practicually chewing Ron's beard off as he did so.

"Idiot sidekicks," Harry mumbled to himself. "They have no idea what's at stake here."

Of course, they couldn't. They were not Harry Potter. Only Harry Potter could fully accept just how important it was for Lord Voldemort to die.

After waiting for a few minutes, Harry decided that he wouldn't be seeing his friends anytime soon, so he took the Horocrux detector out of his backpack (he has a backpack?) and examined it.

"If I'm correct," Harry said to himself. "This thing should start beeping the instant that it gets near a piece of Lord Voldemort's soul."

Suddenly, the Horocrux Detector began doing just that.

"Brilliant!" Harry shouted. "You-Know-Who, prepare to taste my shit!"

At this point, the author would like to point out that he still hasn't won any writting awards. He has no idea why.

Harry Potter put the Horocrux Detector in the palm of his right hand. In his left hand, he held his wand. On his back, there was his backpack. On his face, there were his glasses. In his head, there were thoughts of victory.

If only he had been able to read the last chapter. Then he would know that he was walking into a trap.

A trap that would lead to the death of a major character.

But Harry remained oblivious to the evil that he held in his right hand. He began pacing around Diagon Alley, careful not to step on any owl shit, and also careful not to bump into anyone as he did so. Eventually, he heard the beeping start to get louder.

"Brilliant!" shouted Harry. "Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant, brilliant, BRILLIANT!!!"

No, Harry was not reviewing this fanfiction when he said this.

But he was heading straight for a girls bathroom.

The very bathroom that Ron and Hermione were doing Dumbledore knows what in.

"Great," mumbled Harry to himself. "This is going to be awkward."

But he had no choice. There was something that he needed in there, and nothing was going to stop him from going in there.

Not even the possible sight of Ron and Hermione naked on a toilet playing very dirty games with the bathroom tissue.

Of course, there was actually nothing in there that Harry needed (unless he needed to take a dump). The reader should know by now that he was being set up.

Harry placed the Horocrux detector back into his backpack. He then walked into the boys bathroom, went into a stall, and placed his backpack on the dirty bathroom floor.

"Why do men always miss the toilet?" he muttered to himself with disgust.

He then dug around his backpack. He knew that it was in here somewhere. For if he, Harry Potter, was going to walk into the girls bathroom without causing alarm, then he would need to look like someone other than Harry Potter when he went in there.

Like, preferably, a girl.

"Ah!" he shouted. "Here it is!"

He took out a mask, like the ones that they use in "Mission: Impossible," and placed it on his head. He then took his wand and pointed it at the ceiling.

"Acio Keira Knightley's voice!"

Somehow, for reasons that the author won't bother to explain, Keria Knightley's voice was sucked out of her and into Harry's wand. He then placed it in his mouth and sucked on it.

This somehow also worked.

"Brilliant!" said Harry, who now sounded and looked exactly like Keira Knightley, only without her chest.

Her amazing, amazing chest.

Mmmmmmm.

The author, of course, typed that last part by mistake.

Harry Potter/Keira Knightley walked out of the boys bathroom (which was conveniently empty) and went into the girls one.

"Oh, look," said a girl who was washing her hands. "It's Keira Knightley. When did you start wearing a stupid backpack?"

"My backpack is not stupid!" Harry Potter/Keira Knightley snapped at her. "Have you heard anything that sounds like two people having sex?"

The girl looked at him/her blankly. "What?"

"Have you heard any...you know, sex noises?"

Before long, this fanfiction is surely going to lose its T rating.

"No," the girl answered. "All I heard was two voices shouting "Oh, God, no! Don't kill us! Please don't kill us!"

Harry Potter/Keira Knightley sighed. Hermione and Ron were apparently making even more passionate love to each other than he/she had thought.

But before long, he/she realized that this wasn't the case, for who should pop out of a toilet stall but Bellatrix LeStrange.

"Keira Knightley," she said, with twisted, awesome, evil delight in her voice. "I know who you really are. My Harry Potter detector started beeping the instant that you entered."

Keira Knightley/Harry Potter was furious.

"What have you done with my friends?!" he/she shouted at her.

"You'll find out only if you cooperate," giggled Bellatrix. "Oh, and one more thing: _Avada Kedavra!_"

Harry Potter/Keira Knightley closed his/her eyes and braced himself/herself for death.

But it didn't come.

He/she opened his/her eyes. The girl who had insulted his/her (this is getting old!) backpack was dead.

"I can't have anyone watching our conversation with each other," she said simply. "And I love killing people, so I look for any excuse I can get to do so!"

"If it's a fight that you want," growled Keira/Harry, dropping his/her backpack on the floor, "then it's a fight that I'll give you."

He/she ran towards Bellatrix, fists flying through the air. Unfortunately, the Keira Knightley mask was not intended for physical combat, and Bellatrix Lestrange was able to knock it off with one punch.

Harry lifted himself up and spat out some blood.

"Alright," he growled, but still with Keira's voice, "now you've made me angry!"

He charged at Bellatrix a second time. But she had a trick up her sleeve that he wasn't counting on. She had cast the Imperious Curse on Ron and Hermione, and ordered them to come out from the bathroom stall in which they had been hiding.

Harry was somewhat relieved to see that they weren't naked, although Hermione's dress was torn apart in a pointlessly exploitive, sexy way.

They both charged at Harry, fists flying.

"Guys, it's me!" Harry shouted at them, but it did no good. They were under the Imperrious curse, which meant that they couldn't control their own actions. As far as they were concerned right now, Harry was just someone to beat the living shit out of.

Harry had no choice but to fight back. He swung a punch at Ron, but Ron ducked, and promptly gave Harry a swift kick in the stomach. Harry fell to the floor and immediately threw up. As he did so, he could feel Keria's voice leaving him, mainly because the author was getting sick of having to deal with that plot element.

"You're finished, Potter!" shouted Bellatrix. "The only way that you're going to survive this is if you kill your friends!"

Harry knew that he couldn't do that. At least, not yet. But before he could think of another answer, Hermione pounced on him and began throwing punches at his face. Harry kept pulling his face out of the way as quickly as he could, causing Hermione to punch holes into the bathroom floor. At one point, one of her fists became stuck in the floor as she did so. Harry seized the opportunity and flipped Hermione off of himself. She flew through the air and crashed through a bathroom stall door. Harry heard a splash.

Now it was Ron's turn to attack. He ran into a bathroom stall and pulled the seat off of one of the toilets. Apparently, the Imperrious curse gave him Hulk-like strength. He charged at Harry with the intention of smashing his skull, but Harry ran out of the way in the knick of time. Ron ended up smashing one of the sinks instead.

Water was now splashing everywhere, making the floor wet (duh!). Unfortunately for Harry, he didn't realize this until he slipped and found himself sliding towards the stall in which he had sent Hermione a moment ago.

Hermione was waiting for him. Her hair may have been soaked with toilet water, but that didn't stop her from coming up with a creative way to dispose of her opponent. She had made a rope out of toilet paper and was going to strangle Harry with it once he landed. He ended up landing with his face only inches away from Hermione's bare feet, which she used to kick his glasses off.

"Alright," Harry growled. "You've officially pissed Harry Potter off!"

He reached for his glasses and was fortunately able to quickly locate them. After putting them back on, he got to his feet and grabbed the toilet paper rope that Hermione thought would kill him. Using his strength over her to his advantage, he tied Hermione up with her own weapon and then kicked her in the butt. She flipped through the air as she landed butt-first into the toilet.

"Toilet shrinking spell!" Harry shouted at he pointed his want at the toilet bowl (wait, he still had his wand?). The toilet bowl started shrinking, causing Hermione's butt to get stuck.

"One down," Harry said to himself. "Two to go!"

He left the stall and went looking around for Ron, but he couldn't see him anywhere. He didn't know that Ron was right behind him, this time holding an entire toilet, which he had raised above Harry's head.

Harry didn't know that Ron was there into he saw his reflection in the bathroom mirror, which revealed Ron's location to him. He quickly turned around and pointed his wand at Ron's weapon.

"Toilet exploding spell!" he shouted, causing the toilet to do just that. As it exploded, a piece of it landed on Ron's head, knocking him out.

"It's just you and me, bitch!" Harry shouted at Bellatrix. "I'm going to prove to you that Rorschach wasn't the only person who could kill someone with a toilet!"

But before he could do that, Bellatrix cackled and snapped her fingers. She vanished an instant later.

"Oooohhhh," he heard Ron moan. "Bloody hell. What happened?"

"Help!" he heard Hermione scream. "My arse is stuck in a tiny toilet! Why am I stuck in a toilet? Does the author not have any dignity at all?"

"Ahhhhhhhhh!" cried Ron. "Why is Keira Knightley's face on the floor?!"

"Gaaahhhhhhhh!!!" cried Hermione. "I can see a dead girl from here!"

But Harry wasn't really thinking about any of that stuff at the moment. His attention was drawn to the Horocrux Detector, which wasn't beeping anymore.

He sighed. Wherever the Horocrux had been, Bellatrix had taken it with her.

Oh, how wrong Harry was.


	19. Azkaban's Future Prisoner

"There is only one thing that can be done with the girl now," Lord Voldemort finally declared. "We must have her sent to Azkaban."

Greg looked at him, puzzled.

"Pardon me for asking, my good sir, but _why_ exactly should we do that?"

Voldemort glared at the goblin.

"Don't call me good!" he hissed. "You should know by now that I hate that! And as for why we must send the girl to prison, I think that my reasoning behind that is pretty obvious when you think about it."

Greg thought about it, but he couldn't thing of anything.

So he thought about it some more.

Three hours later, Greg was still just as blank as he had been earlier.

"I give up, sir," Greg confessed. "I can't see any reason for her to go to Azkaban. I can't even see how we'd go about sending her there."

"They really do overestimate goblins, don't they?" said Voldemort with some clear amusement in his voice. "I was under the impression that you were supposed to be the smartest of creatures. You forget that I am Lord Voldemort, and that alone means that I am capable of doing anything. My goal is to never die, so sending a girl to Azkaban is a very easy task for me."

"You're playing with my patience," Greg snapped. "If you're not going to tell me anything I want to know, I may as well go back to robbing trains."

"You will do nothing of the sort!" Voldemort said. "Especially after you botched up the mission that I gave you on the Hogwarts Express. You will go and tell Miss Lovegood that she will soon have a new home...in a prison cell."

Voldemort smiled. Whatever idea it was that he had in mind, Greg was certain that it must be a diabolical one.

He did as he was told and went back into the room where he had left Luna in a cage. She was very busy counting her toes.

"All ten are still there," she said with satisfaction. Her eyes then turned to Greg. "Oh, hello. Are you here to threaten me again?"

"I'm here to tell you that you will soon be getting free room and board," snarled Greg. "There's a cell in Azkaban with your name on it!"

"That's not true," said Luna simply.

"Excuse me?"

"There's not a cell in Azkaban with my name on it," said Luna. "You see, once you become a prisoner in Azkaban, you lose your name and have it replaced with a number." She paused and thought for a second. "I do hope that they give me the number 2."

"Shut up!" shouted Greg. "Are you not upset to learn that you will be sent to the place where the sun doesn't shine?"

"The sun doesn't shine much where I am now," said Luna. "And besides, I should be happy to be in a safe place like Azkaban, because they make the inmates wear striped uniforms there. Stripes scare Dragonfly Undertakers, you see, so I should be pretty well protected."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Greg said with frustration. "But don't think that I can't see past a wretched girl like you. I know exactly what you're up to."

"I'm locked in a cage wearing a bondage outfit," said Luna. "That's what I'm up to."

"That's not what I'm talking about," said Greg. "You're clearly trying to toy with my mind and drive me crazy with your nonsense that doesn't make a lick of sense. Well, I'm smarter than that. Much smarter."

"Good for you," said Luna, looking sincerely impressed by what he had just said. "You must be very smart indeed then."

"You should be afraid," said Greg. "The Dark Lord has a plan for you. He refuses to tell me why he's having you sent to Azkaban, but I'm sure that he has a reason for it. No matter what happens, you will probably be dead soon. Girls your age never live long in Azkaban."

"Sometimes they do," said Luna. "And I'm sure that Harry Potter will come and try to rescue me."

Greg felt as though his brain had been flushed down the toilet.

"Of course!" Greg shouted, raising a hand into the air. "That's why the Dark Lord wants you in Azkaban! You're bait! Once Harry Potter learns that one if his friends is rotting away in prison, he'll feel the need to to try to get you back! And then the Dark Lord will finally have Harry Potter, because he'll make the same mistake with you that he made with his godfather!"

But Luna didn't appear to be paying any attention to him, as she had become very involved in counting her fingers.

Meanwhile, Lord Voldemort was waiting for his laptop to boot up.

"Stupid machine," he muttered. "If only you could torture these things with curses to make them run faster."

"My lord," said Bagman, who had finally recovered his voice and was still in a state of shock from hearing the Elder Swear, "May I ask what you are doing?"

"I am going onto the muggle invention called the internet to inform my contact within the ministry that I have a new prisoner for her," stated Voldemort. "I just need to decide what excuse I can come up with for sending this girl to Azkaban."

"You have a contact within the ministry?" said Bagman. "How is that possible?"

"I use a name other than my own on a website called Facebook," said Voldemort. "I call myself 'Snake Eyes' and claim to be a secret spy who's keeping an eye on Harry Potter."

"Really?" said Bagman, starting to become confused. "And who, may I ask, are you contacting?"

"A woman called Dolores Umbridge," said Voldemort. "She used to work at Hogwarts, and has reason to hate the Potter boy almost as much as I do."

An email message then popped up on Lord Voldemort's computer screen. It was from Bellatrix LeStrange and read as follows:

"Dear, Dark Lord

Went to girls bathroom like you said. Stinking potter fell for trap, but got away. Hope you can forgive me. I killed a girl who was washing her hands and it was FUN!! LOL! Thought you might like to know.

Wish I could say more, but I've g2g. Watch my blog for updates.

~Bellatrix"

"Miss Bellatrix has failed me again," Voldemort said, but he didn't sound very upset. "Of course, I never expected for her to be able to kill the boy. But she came through for me when she killed the girl in the bathroom. Now I have a crime which I can accuse the Lovegood girl of."

He then logged into Facebook and told Dolores Umbridge his big lie, knowing perfectly well that she would believe him, because she considered him her single most trusted contact.

And speaking of most trusted contacts, Lord Voldemort's most trusted agent, at that very moment, was confronting Bellatrix LeStrange about her recent failure.

"You're a loose canon, Bellatrix!" shouted Voldemort's most trusted agent. "Are you so mad with your thrist for death that you're willing to put everything that the Dark Lord has planned out so carefully in danger?"

"I never feel more alive than when I'm watching other people die," said Bellatrix as she twirled her wand around in a circle. "And what do you know about the Dark Lord? You don't worship him nearly as much as I do!"

"You are lucky that I don't end your pathetic excuse for a life right now," Voldemort's most trusted agent snarled. "But the Dark Lord will probably be able to use your mistake to his advantage. He usually finds a way of doing that."

"I didn't make no mistake," said Bellatrix. "I did as I was told. The Dark Lord ordered me to wait for Potter in the girls toilet, and that's exactly what I did. Potter showed up to get the phoney horocrux, and that's when I released those two filthy friends of his on him."

"But you made yourself seen!" shouted Voldemort's most trusted agent. "You let Potter know that you were behind the spell that you had cast on Granger and Weasley! What excuse do you have for that?"

"What's the fun in killing someone if you're hidng in a bathroom stall when they die?" said Bellatrix with a twisted giggle. "You of all of the Dark Lord's death eaters should know the pleasure that comes from shouting the words of killing curse and watching the terror fill the eyes of your victims just before their lives are over."

"I KNOW FOR A FACT THAT I HAVE TO PUT THAT PLEASURE BEHIND ME WHEN I'M SERVING THE DARK LORD!!" Voldemort's most trusted agent roared at her. "FORTUNATELY FOR YOU, THE DARK LORD ANTICIPATED YOUR FAILURE!!!"

"YOU LIE!!" Bellatrix roared back. "WHY WOULD THE DARK LORD SEND ME ON THIS MISSION IF HE THOUGHT THAT I WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO ACCOMPLISH IT! FACE IT, YOU'RE JUST JEALOUS BECAUSE THE DARK LORD TRUSTS ME MORE THAN HE TRUSTS YOU!!!"

"I AM LORD VOLDEMORT'S MOST TRUSTED AGENT, YOU CRAZY BITCH!!!" roared back Voldemort's most trusted agent. "AND HOW DO YOU THINK THAT HAPPENED? BY ME MAKING A SPECTACLE OF MYSELF IN PUBLIC ALL THE TIME THE WAY YOU ALWAYS DO?!? NO! BECAUSE I AM A MASTER OF BEING SUBTLE!! I NEVER ALLOW MYSELF TO BE NOTICED!!!"

"Are you sure about that?" Bellatrix asked him, turning her eyes towards a crowd that was now watching them very intensely. It consisted of at least 30 muggles.

Lord Voldemort's most trusted agent was at a loss for words.

"Perhaps a Burger King was not the best place for us to have this meeting," he concluded outloud.

Bellatrix LeStrange clapped her hands together excitedly.

"Can they die? Can they die?" she squealed. "Can they please die?! I haven't seen anyone get dispatched in over eight hours!"

"Yes," said Voldemort's most trusted agent simply. "They have seen and heard too much. They must die."

"Yay!" squealed Bellatrix, rolling up her sleeves. "And there are so many of them, too! This is going to be better than sex!"

But before she could make another move, Bellatrix LeStrange suddenly found herself tied up, her wand removed from her hand and her mouth removed from her face.

"I didn't say that they would die by your hand," said Voldemort's most trusted agent pointing a wand at her. "When you've been a good girl, you may kill again, but for now, you won't even be allowed to watch."

A split second later, a blindfold had appeared in front of Bellatrix's eyes. Had she had a mouth at the time, she almost certainly would've been throwing a tantrum.

Then, without any magic at all, Voldemort's most trusted agent killed all of the muggles, using only advanced skills in the martial arts and a bendy Burger King straw.

"You may not be ready for me, Potter," he whispered. "But I will definately be ready for you."


	20. Hermione Gets Wasted

"Sorry again that we tried to kill you, Harry," Ron told his friend for the third time that evening.

"It's alright, Ron," Harry sighed. "It's not really your fault or anything. Your mind simply isn't as strong as mine is. How could I expect for you to resist the Imperious Curse?"

Hermione made a small moaning noise. Ron looked at her with concern.

"You okay, Hermione?"

Hermione made another small moaning noise.

"Why would I be okay?" she moaned. "I had my bum stuck in a toilet for two whole hours this afternoon. Two whole hours!"

She let out a small hiccup, then looked at the bartender. "I'll have another butterbeer, please."

"But you've already had eight of them," said Ron with even more concern in his voice than before. "You should maybe take it easy."

"Take it easy?" Hermione said, appearing to chuckle as she did so. "You try being embarassed like I was today, and see if you don't want to get wasted!"

"Hermione, you need to adjust your disguise," Harry said stepping into their conversation. "It's starting to fall off."

"As though I give a damn!" Hermione blurted out, tearing the pair of funny nose glasses that she was wearing off of her face. "I don't think that looking like a cartoon character is going to solve my problems right now!"

She made yet another small moaning noise and leaned her head down on the table.

"I can never go to a public toilet again," she moaned. "Never, never, ever again."

"Your butterbeer, miss," the bartender said, sliding a bubbling glass over to her.

Hermione immediately got back up and began drinking away.

"She's really not taking this very well, is she?" said Ron to Harry, with a look about as serious as anyone wearing funny nose glasses could make. "I'm worried about her."

"I'm more worried about her getting us noticed," said Harry, who was wearing a pair of funny nose glasses over his regular ones. "This bar has been known to attract Death Eaters in the past."

"Then what the bloody hell are we doing here?" asked Ron, who was now watching Hermione demand yet another butterbeer from the bartender.

"We need to discuss what we're going to do next," said Harry, as though that was an answer to Ron's question. "I can't believe that Bellatrix has a Horocrux in her hands as we speak."

"Maybe it wasn't actually a Horocrux," Ron suggested. "Maybe she was just trying to lure you into a trap."

"Impossible!" said Harry. "I have total faith in my Horocrux Detector! It has never let me down!"

"Look at me!" shouted Hermione suddenly, tearing the nose off of her pair of funny nose glasses and placing them back on her face. "I'm Harry Potter!"

Ron laughed at her without thinking.

"That's a good one, Hermione," Ron managed to say through his laughter.

"No, it's not!" shouted Harry, who seemed to always be easily offended. "I'm Harry Potter and my life is a tragic story! There's nothing at all funny about pretending to be me."

"Yes there is!" insisted Hermione, who was now pulling out a small marker and drawing a lightning bolt on her head. "And now I look exactly like you! Where's my butterbeer?"

"You look nothing like me," said Harry, who still wasn't amused. "Nothing at all."

"Hey, look over there!" a voice cried out. "It's Harry Potter!"

Harry froze in his seat.

"We've been busted!" he whispered through gritted teeth. "Our disguises didn't work!"

He was then surprised to see that two wizards wearing the very same pair of funny nose glasses that he was had seated themselves down next to him.

"Great to see two wizarding detectives like us here," said one of the wizards, sounding delighted. "I see that you got the memo about the new disguises."

Harry collected himself before he finally spoke.

"Oh, yeah, sure," he said uneasily. "A detective such as myself never misses a memo as important as that one."

"We're detectives?" Ron mouthed at Harry, looking completely confused.

"Just do what I do," Harry whispered back at him.

"So, who's your friend?" asked one of the wizards, who was looking at Hermione. "She can't be a detective, because the women aren't supposed to wear those things."

"I thought that she was Harry Potter," the other wizard said.

"Your disguise is clearly affecting your vision," the other wizard told him. "Although, now that you mention it, I do think that I've seen her somewhere before..."

"That's because she's a stripper!" Harry said very quickly. "She's our stripper friend, and we wanted to bring her to the bar with us."

Ron glared at Harry. Hermione only made a small giggle noise.

"It's the best that I could come up with," Harry mouthed to them.

"A stripper, eh?" said one of the wizards, elbowing his friend. "Well, that would explain why I feel like I've seen her before."

"Yeah," said the other wizard. "You just didn't notice it right away because you probably weren't looking at her face when you last saw her."

This made both of the wizards burst out laughing. Harry, feeling as though he should join in, began laughing, and then Ron also joined in, and Hermione was laughing as well, but that was probably only because she was drunk, and soon all of them were wiping tears off of their eyes.

"What is the meaning of this nonsense?" shouted a stern voice.

Harry looked up, horrified beyond words to see that the ugly, digusting, completely evil Dolores Umbridge was approaching their table. She was wearing a strange pink hat, her usually furry pink coat, a pink scarf, and a pair of pink boots with matching pink socks. Although Harry couldn't see them, he was sure that she was also wearing a pink pair of panties and a pink bra.

"Miss Umbridge," said one of the wizards. "Glad that you arrived on time."

"I never don't arrive on time," she said as she sat down next to them. "The ministry can't afford for me to ever be late for anything."

"So I'm assuming that you called us here because you wanted an update on our case, right?" one of the wizards asked her.

"I am taking you both off of the Marge Dursley case," Umbridge said quickly. "The ministry has decided that it was obviously done by You-Know-Who."

"But...we've been working on the case for ages!" one of the wizards said with a whimper. "Surely the ministry realizes that this is an important mystery to solve!"

"It's not important, because it's already been solved," said Umbridge firmly. "But don't get your wands in a knot. I have a new assignment for you."

"What is it?" asked the other wizard, looking curious.

Before she answered his question, however, Umbridge finally noticed the presence of Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"Who are these people?" she asked.

"Oh, those two guys are detectives, like us," he said, tapping on his own pair of funny nose glasses.

"And the girl is their stripper friend," the other wizard explained matter-of-factly.

Umbride didn't answer. She just looked at Hermione very closely, clearly deep in thought

"I swear that I've seen you somewhere before," she said to her at last.

"That's probably because you have seen her before," said one of the wizards with a small chuckle. "You just weren't looking at her face at the time!"

He then began laughing again, but stopped quickly, since no one joined in with him this time.

Umbridge then snapped her fingers.

"You're that Granger girl, aren't you?" she said in an accusing tone of voice. "You were a member of Dumbledore's Army!"

To Harry's horror, Hermione answered her.

"Yessss, that's right," she said with a bit of a hiss in her voice. "I'm Hermione Granger! But...why would a toad like you care?"

"I beg your pardon!" said Umbridge as her face went green. "Are you making a comment about my looks?"

"Oh, no," said Hermione, shaking her head without too much control over it. "No, no, no, no. No. I wouldn't do something like that to _you._" She appeared to be trying to make a straight face before she continued. "So, tell me, are you planning on having a...a...fly in your drink this evening?"

She then fell out of her chain, roaring with laughter at her own joke.

Harry looked at Umbridge pleadingly.

"Please don't be angry with her!" he said, attempting to not speak too clearly so as not to reveal his voice to her. "She's just upset that she didn't get a lot of tips today. That's why she decided to get drunk."

"Actually," went Hermione from the floor. "The reason that I got drunk is because I had a big, big, _big_ problem with the toilet today."

This, apparently, was enough to make her laugh even harder, causing her glasses to fly off of her face.

But Umbridge didn't look upset anymore. In fact, she seemed to be almost as amused as Hermione was.

"So, Granger ended up becoming a stripper, eh?" she said after making that obnoxious noise that sounded like a cross between a hiccup and a giggle. "Well, I'm glad to see that her edcuation at Hogwarts helped her find a promising job."

"Speaking of jobs," said one of the wizards, starting to look bored. "What's this new job that you have for us?"

"You are to capture a young woman called Luna Lovegood and have her sent straight to Azkaban," said Umbridge. "She is guilty of first-degree murder."

"What?" shouted Harry before he could stop himself.

"I have recieved word from my single most trusted contact that Luna Lovegood killed a girl in a bathroom at Diagon Alley this afternoon," Umbridge continued as though Harry hadn't said anything. "And I have been given the exact location of where she can be found."

"Most trusted contact?" went one of the wizards. "Who may I ask is it?"

"I don't know his real name," said Umbridge. "He just calls himself 'Snake Eyes," but I'd trust him with my life. He's proven to be very valuable to me."

"It sounds to me like you're making contact with the ninja from 'G.I. Joe'," said one of the wizards.

"It sounds to me like you''re making contact with Lord Voldemort!" shouted Harry, feeling his blood begin to boil.

Umbridge made that obnoxious giggle/hiccup noise again.

"Are you meaning to say that you doubt my contact?" she asked him in her horrible yet sweet voice.

"What he's meaning to say," said Hermione as she struggled to get back into her seat, "Is that he doesn't think a toad such as yourself is capable of much beyond hopping."

She then looked down into her butterbeer glass, sad to find it empty.

"Bartender!" she shouted. "Get me another one before I...before I...before I..."

Umbridge's face was hard to read. She seemed to be furious and entertained at the same time.

"Before you...what?" went Umbridge, making her eyes large on purpose as she spoke.

"Before I...sing!" Hermione declared, pointing a finger at Umbridge's face, as though she were somehow threatening her.

Before anyone could stop her, Hermione climbed onto the table and burst into song, although she was so drunk that her singing was sort of hard to understand.

_"It was an itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny, PINK pooka-dot bikini, worn by someone who was way too big for...for it_

_An itsy-bitsy, teeny, PINK pooka-dot bikini....that...died...when Umbridge...put it on..."_

"Get naked!" shouted one of the wizards, apparently fully turned on by this specatcle.

"Yeah," shouted the other wizard. "Do that strip dancer thing!"

Ron gave Harry a very desperate look.

"Harry," he gasped. "I have no idea where this is going."

"Neither does the author," said Harry. "He seems to be making this up as he goes along."

"Do you think that we should do something?" Ron asked, clearly hoping that Harry would somehow have an answer.

"What can we do?" said Harry. "It's only a matter of time before someone pulls her off of the table."

But that didn't seem very likely, judging by the crowd of jeering wizards that had gathered around Hermione. There were so many of them that Harry could no longer see Umbridge.

_"The bikini...it was pink...gone in a flash...when the toad lady put it on...it died....poor pink bikini..."_

None of the horny men watching Hermione seemed to realize that her song really wasn't making much sense.

Maybe that was because she was now only wearing her underwear.

"Bloody hell, Harry!" shouted Ron. "I can't bear to watch this!"

He then covered his eyes with his hands, but Harry noticed that Ron was still watching through his fingers.

Just as Hermione was about to remove her bra and truly become the very thing that Harry had lied about her being, a huge explosion came from the direction of the table which she was dancing on. All of the wizards, who were now knocked out, flew in various directions, revealing the sight of Dolores Umbridge, her wand stretched out in her hand.

"Enough of all of this!" she shouted at Hermione. "I want to really know why you're here!"

Hermione smiled at Umbridge, seeming completely unthreatened by her dangerous tone of voice.

"I am here," she said as she sat down on the table, "because I tried to kill Harry Potter today, and he made my bottom get stuck in a toilet."

Umbrigde looked stunned.

"Harry Potter?" she gasped. "Where is he? I want you to tell me where he is!"

"He's over there," Hermione almost sang, pointing, alas, straight at Harry Potter. "He thinks that you won't know who he is while he's wearing those...things."

Umbridge flew over to Harry and Ron and tore off their stupid glasses. There was a look of savage victory in her eyes.

"At last!" she shouted. "Harry Potter! I've found Harry Potter! Oh, you're really going to get it now, boy! My contact has told me an awful lot about you, and now, you're going to pay for..."

"DOLORES UMBRIDGE!!!" roared a voice.

Almost immediately, Umbridge shoved Harry across the room as though to distance herself from him. She was very white.

"I wasn't doing anything, sir," she said, trying to make her voice sound calm. "I was just having a little chat with a friend of mine."

"YOU ARE NO FRIEND OF POTTER'S!!!" the voice roared. "NOW, GET OUTSIDE AND HAVE A WORD WITH ME!!!"

Umbridge grew even whiter, not even bothering to look back at Harry as she exited the bar.

Harry and Ron both watched her go, both seeming uncertain of what to say next.

Hermione, however, appeared to have other things on her mind.

"I have a problem," she said as she played with her hair. "I need to pee."

Ron looked at her blankly.

"How is that a problem for you? The bathroom's right there!"

"It's a problem," said Hermione, slowly walking across the hall, "because I don't use public toilets anymore, remember? But no matter. I'll see what I'm able to do with a urinal."

But before she could take even another step further, Hermione Granger collapsed on the floor. A few seconds later, she began to snore very loudly.

"I think that we should get her out of here," suggested Harry. "I'll carry her legs and you'll carry her shoulders."

"I want to carry her legs," protested Ron.

"Fine," said Harry. "You can carry her legs." He paused before speaking again. "Who do you suppose was calling Umbridge outside?"

Ron didn't say anything at first. When he finally responded, his voice was shaky.

"I think that I know who it was," he said softly. "But you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Who was it?" asked Harry, obviously not satisfied with only that much information.

Ron gave a deep sigh.

"I think...that I've heard that voice many times before," he said. "I think that it sounded like my father."


	21. The Prancing Pony

"Damn, this fanfiction has more secrets in it than 'Lost'," said Harry. "How could your father possibly scare Umbridge like that?"

"Well, he's been acting a little funny lately," said Ron. "It's hard to be explain how exactly. He's just seemed kinda shifty about a few things."

"Such as?"

"He's just been talking about some stuff that's been going on at the ministry without going into any details," explained Ron. "That's all I really know."

"Ugh, you're no help at all!" shouted Harry. "We need to find out what your father's been up to, Ron! It's important to our mission?"

"How so?" asked Ron, looking a little surprised by Harry's haughty attitude.

"Because he might know something about Voldemort!" said Harry. "Didn't you realize that Umbridge is somehow making contact with him? She actually believes that story that she heard about Luna Lovegood killing someone in a girls bathroom today."

"I thought that Bellatrix LeStrange did that," said Ron.

"Of course she did!" shouted Harry, almost letting go of Hermione's shoulders as he did so. "Voldemort is using this to cover it up!"

"Please don't drop Hermione," Ron said quickly. "I don't want for her head to fall on the sidewalk."

"Don't worry," Harry assured him. "We're almost at the hotel."

"Hotel?" said Ron, looking shocked. "I thought that we were going camping."

"I'm Harry Potter, and I don't want to go camping," said Harry sternly. "The Boy Who Lived shouldn't have to live without indoor plumbing."

"But that's not even an issue for wizards," Ron tried to tell him.

Harry didn't listen. "My mind's been made up," he said. "We will all be checking ourselves into a hotel as soon as we see one."

They finally arrived at a hotel that was called _The Prancing Pony_.

"Ugh!" says the reader. "How creative of the author!"

"Here we are," said Harry. "_The Prancing Pony_. A popular hotel for wizards with a name that's a pointless reference to 'Lord of the Rings.'"

"Let's just get in there!" said Ron. "My arms are starting to get tired."

They entered the hotel and went over to the counter.

"Can I ring the bell?" asked Ron.

"Do whatever you want," said Harry, laying Hermione down on a small sofa.

"ZZZzzzzz!!!" went Hermione.

Ron rang the bell, but no one came.

"Maybe they're on lunch break," suggested Ron.

"Lunch break?" said Harry, exasperated by his friend's stupidity. "It's almost 1:00 in the morning! Why would they be on lunch break?"

Ron said nothing, and sat himself down next to Hermione.

Harry went over to the desk and started tapping his fingers on it, beginning to lose his patience. The day had not been a productive one for him, and all he wanted to do was get to sleep.

Finally, a man wearing a very strange purple uniform arrived at the desk. He was very overweight and didn't seem to have much regard for personal hygeine. It wasn't until Harry saw his arm that he realized who it was that he was looking at.

"Wormtail!" shouted Harry. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?"

Wormtail bowed at Harry, attempting to appear civil.

"Merely making an honest living, Harry Potter," he said making that ugly smile of his. "I decided that I no longer wanted to work for the Dark Lord."

"Too late for that," snarled Harry, pointing his wand at Wormtail's throat. "You already murdered Cedric Diggory. I saw you do it."

"WHAT??" shouted Ron from the sofa.

Harry looked back at his friend. "What are you talking about?" he asked him, sounding a little disgusted.

"You...always said that You-Know-Who was the one who killed Diggory!" shouted Ron, looking too shocked for words.

"Well, that was true for a certain point of view," said Harry. "I thought it would make everyone feel a lot better if they thought that Cedric was killed by someone like Voldemort, instead of someone who used to be your pet rat."

"I don't follow you..."

"Look, Ron, do you really think people would've taken what happened to me in the graveyard seriously if they knew that Cedric was murdered by a guy who looked like _that_?"

As though trying to help prove Harry's point, Wormtail made that ugly smile of his even wider.

"Hey, Ron," he said, making a small wave at him. "How's the family?"

"They're okay, considering everything that's been going on," answered Ron as he stroked Hermione's hair a little. "Well, except for Percy, of course. He's dead."

"Ron, stop it!" shouted Harry. "You can't make casual conversation with a murderer."

"But James Bond does it all the time," said Ron.

"Please, Ron, we both know that you're no James Bond," said Harry as he rolled his eyes a little. He then turned his attention back to Wormtail.

"Now, what are you doing here?" he asked him, putting his wand so close to his throat that he was nearly cutting it open as he did so.

"Like I told you," said Wormtail, looking incredibly nervous. "I'm just trying to make an honest living. Would you like a room for the evening?"

"Why, so you can go in there and kill us in our sleep?" said Harry with a false laugh. "I don't think so!"

"You aren't going to kill me," said Wormtail, attempting to make that ugly grin of his again. "Lily and James wouldn't have wanted it..."

"DON'T MENTION THEIR NAMES, YOU FILTHY RAT!!" shouted Harry, pounding one of his fists down on the desk. "DON'T YOU EVER MENTION THEIR NAMES TO MY FACE AGAIN!!"

"Harry, you're going to wake Hermione," said Ron carefully, but Harry paid him no attention.

"Why do you think that we would want a room for the evening?" said Harry, furiously trying to keep his voice calm.

"Because this is a hotel," said Wormtail, gesturing his arms around the room. "It's a place where people go to _sleep_."

Wormtail then put his two hands together and pretended to lean his head down against them. He then closed his eyes and made snoring sounds.

It was an incredibly disturbing sight.

Harry smacked Wormtail across the face. "What are you trying to do? Disturb us for life? Now, tell me why you're here!"

"I already told you," said Wormtail, rubbing his sore cheek. "I'm just trying to make an honest living."

"Harry!" shouted Ron. "This scene is going around in circles! Let's please just ask for a room and be done with it."

"Never!" shouted Harry. "We're going to leave this place right now, and then we'll steal some construction equipment and have it destroyed with a giant wrecking ball...with Wormtail still inside."

"Noooooooo!" shouted Wormtail. "You can't do that to me! I'm a good man now. An honest, good man who just wants to work in a hotel."

"Yeah, right," said Harry, turning to the door. "Pick up Hermione, Ron. We're leaving."

But when Harry tried to open the door, it wouldn't budge.

"Oh, no," said Wormtail, looking very amused. "It looks like the hotel is now closed."

"Make the door open up this second, you butt-ugly creep!" Harry roared at him.

"I'm sorry, Potter, but there's nothing that I can do," said Wormtail with a small shrug. "Once the hotel closes, it doesn't open up again until the next day."

"That's stupid!" said Harry.

Wormtail shrugged again. "Blame the author, not me."

"Can we please just get a room, Harry?" said Ron, looking very frustrated. "I'm tired."

"Fine!" growled Harry, pulling out a bag of money and placing it on the table. "How much is a room for three people?"

"For you, Harry Potter, it will be free of charge," said Wormtail, giving another small bow. "I hope that this kind gesture helps show you what an honest person that I have become."

"Yeah, whatever," said Harry as Wormtail handed him a small key. "You're lucky that I don't make you watch a 'Hannah Montana' marathon right now."

Harry then looked down at the key.

"I can't find a number or anything on this thing," he said. "How am I supposed to know which room we're in?"

"Oh, don't worry, I can help you out with that," said Wormtail. "You see, the number on that key has been removed because some people are...superstitous about these things."

"What are you saying?" said Harry. "Are you saying that we're going to be in the 13th room or something?"

"The 13th room of the 13th floor," said Wormtail. "There's plenty of room for three people in there."

Ron looked extremely concerned. "Isn't there another room that you could give us?"

"Not for three people," answered Wormtail simply.

"C'mon, Ron," said Harry, getting annoyed. "You wanted a room, and now we have one."

Ron slowly hoisted Hermione up over his shoulders and followed Harry into the elevator.

"I wanted to go camping," he mumbled.

"Well, it's too late for that now," said Harry as he pushed the button to shut the elevator door.

"I don't like the number 13," said Ron. "The number 13 is bad luck."

Harry rolled his eyes and said nothing until the elevator reached the 13th floor.

"Well, here we are," said Harry as they walked into the hall.

"Couldn't we just sleep outside?" Ron suggested, seeming desperate to find a way out of this situation.

"No," said Harry firmly as he stuck his key into the door of their room. "You heard Wormtail. The hotel won't open up again until morning."

"But what if there's a fire? What are we going to do then?"

"Look, right now I'm concerned about Wormtail being here," said Harry. "I don't have time to worry about your silly concerns."

He then opened the door and looked into the room. His moith fell open almost immediately.

The room was in complete disrepair. The wallpaper, which was an ugly shade of orange, was peeling off the wall. The three so-called beds appeared to have springs coming out of them. Worst of all, the door to the bathroom had apparently been removed years ago, and had yet to be replaced.

"Brilliant," said Harry, slamming his backpack onto the floor. "Just brilliant."

"Which bed should we put Hermione on?" asked Ron.

"I don't know," said Harry, still disgusted by the sight of the room. "Probably the one with the fewest springs coming out of it. I don't imagine that we want her waking up until morning if we can help it."

After examining the beds for at least five minutes, Ron gently placed Hermione down on the bed that he deemed the most worthy. He carefully placed a very badly torn blanket over her.

"I'm glad for that," he said. "I was feeling kinda weird seeing her in only her underwear for such a long period of time."

Ron then collapsed into a bed that was much more bouncy than the one that he had put Hermione on. Despite the condition of the mattress, he was soon snoring almost as loudly as she was.

Harry sighed. He had very much wanted to talk with Ron for an extended period of time about everything that had happened, and about where they were to go next. There was no point in continuing to look for a horocrux in Diagon Alley, so now he had to choose between two options: Go to Hogsmeade or go to Hogwarts. After what had happened tonight, he was in no hurry to put Hermione anywhere close to the Hog's Head, especially since National Butterbeer Day was approaching.

"Hogwarts it is, then," he said outloud to himself. "It makes sense anyway, since there are supposed to be two horocruxes over there anyway."

Feeling the need to stretch his legs, and also wanting to get away from Ron and Hermione's snoring, Harry Potter left the room to get ice (wait...why the hell is he doing that?). On his way to the ice machine, he hummed "Breakaway" to himself, feeling content that he would soon have two pieces of Voldemort's soul in his hands.

It was then when he heard his name spoken.

"Potter must be stopped!" a voice said. "He can't be allowed to die!"

Harry noticed that the voice was coming from a hotel room that had its door knob opened by just a tiny crack. He immediately knew that this must mean that a secret conversation must be taking place, because it was a little known fact that you always left the door open a bit by mistake whenever you intended to have a private conversation with someone.

Naturally, he leaned down on the floor next to the door, trying to be as quiet as possible.

"Harry is only doing what he thinks is right," said the voice of Lupin. "He feels that he is obligated to destroy You-Know-Who. I for one believe that he is old enough to make his own decissions."

"Potter's a fool!" went the other voice, which Harry now knew was Mad-Eye Moody's. "He may be brilliant for a wizard of his age, but he doesn't seem to think twice about walking into traps."

"You think that Potter is walking into a trap?"

"Yes!" Moody snarled. "He showed me this thing that he got off of that muggle thing called the internet. He thinks it'll help him in his quest. Well, I looked at that thing, and it didn't look good to me at all. I could feel it in my bones. That thing had black magic in it!"

"Black magic? But I thought that you said that he got it off the internet?"

"Wizards lately, particuarly the bad ones, have taken to using the internet for their own purposes. It's quite useful, really, and I frankly can't believe that muggles were smart enough to come up with something like that."

"So you think that this object that Harry recieved was in fact sent to him by a Death Eater?"

"Who else would send something like that to him? We don't know anything about anyone in the Order using the internet for purposes other than finding porn."

"Is there anything else you wish to tell me?"

Moody sighed. "Unfortuantely, there is," he said. "We've been hearing some rumors lately. Only rumors, mind you. Nothing official. But they're about the Dark Lord's most trusted agent."

"Are you saying that you know who it is?"

"Like I said, it's nothing but rumors. But some people think that they know the identity, and yes, it will definately disturb you."

"Try me," said Lupin.

Harry noticed Mad-Eye limping towards Lupin and saw him whisper something into his ear.

"Good lord!" he shouted. "Moody, that's not possible! You're paranoid if you believe something like that!"

"Never the less, we must act quickly," said Moody. "If that rumor is indeed true, we are all in much more danger than we thought."

"I refuse to believe it!" insisted Lupin. "Are you saying that we should just go out and make an arrest without any proof? Where is the justice in the world, Alastar, if we are to send someone to Azkaban based on rumors alone?"

"We can't be too careful right now," said Moody. "That's all I'm saying."

"Well, until we know more actual facts, I shall keep an open mind," said Lupin simply. "By the way, why did you whisper the rumored name into my ear? It's not like we're being watched or anything."

"Actually, we are," said Moody. "Harry Potter has been listening to us for quite a few minutes now."

Harry dropped his empty ice bucket on the floor and bolted back to his hotel room.

"Curses!" he shouted to himself. "How the hell could I forget that Moody can see through walls?"

There were so many questions in his head. Why did Moody believe that the Horocrux detector was a trap? Who was the rumored identity of Voldemort's most trusted agent? Why was Lupin so convinced that it was a false rumor?

And why were Moody and Lupin sharing a hotel room with each other?

There was no way that he could answer those questions now. He opened the door to the 13th room on the 13th floor, and slammed it shut behind him out of frustration.

What he didn't know was that there was an uninvited guest in the room with him.


	22. Plots for Revenge

No matter how hard that she tried, Lavender Brown couldn't stop thinking about Ron.

"I miss my Wonald," she confided to Ginny Weasley at a coffee shop. "I miss my Wonald so, so much."

"Well, these things happen," said Ginny simply, taking a sip from her pumpkin mocha. "Dean and I are no longer together, as I'm sure you've noticed."

"Don't talk like that to me," Lavender whined. "I know perfectly well that you never wuved your Deany at all. It's Harry Potter who you've been in wuv with. It always has been!"

"Not so loud!" Ginny whispered at her harshly. "I already told you to never talk about that with me."

"And I alweady told you that I am still in wuv with my Wonald," said Lavender. "It's all because of that wicked, wicked Gwanger girl. She cast a spell on my Wonald. She made him hate me!"

Ginny tried to comfort Lavender by gently rubbing her hand.

"Just because he doesn't want to be your girlfriend anymore doesn't mean that he hates you," she told her calmly.

Lavender pulled her hand away from her.

"You don't get it, do you?" she cried. "You've never been in wuv with anyone, have you? Not for weal, like me and Wonald were. We wuved each other very much! There was no wuv in the whole world that could compare to what we shared! But Gwanger got jealous! Gwanger couldn't stand our wuv!"

She then began to cry into her napkin.

"I doubt that it's like that at all," Ginny said in a very careful tone of voice. "I haven't heard anything official about my brother dating Hermione."

"That's probably only because my Wonald is keeping secrets from you," Lavender sobbed. "Gwanger isn't wetting him tell anyone, because she's so evil. She won't wet my Wonald fwee from her spell until it's too late! Once he's gotten her knocked up, she'll blame my Wonald for it. She'll get him into twouble!"

"Hermione's not like that," Ginny said, feeling slightly frustrated. "And why on earth do you talk that way?"

"You only wike Hermione because she's a fwiend of Harry Potter," said Lavender, ignoring her question. "If she wasn't fwiends with Harry, then you would see her for the wicked, wicked bitch that she is!"

Ginny paused before speaking again.

"Look, you can't keep going on like this," said Ginny. "You have to move on with your life. There is someone else out there. Someone who will _really_ love you."

The look on Lavender's face immediately let Ginny know that she had said the wrong thing.

"Are you meaning to imply that he never weally wuved me?" she cried as still more tears streamed down her cheeks. "Are you twying to say that my Wonny was only wanting to be awound me so that we could snog each other? What we had, Ginny Weasley, was weally, weally special. But you have turned your heart away from wuv! You wefuse to admit that you still want Harry, despite the fact that he told you that he could never be with you!"

"He said that he did it for my own good!" shouted Ginny, now standing up from her seat. "And if you can't over my brother, then what do you think that I'm supposed to do about it?"

Lavender seemed unable to speak. She continued to cry into her napkin until it proved useless to her, at which point she took Ginny's napkin away from her and began crying into it.

When she finally did speak, her voice was incredibly hoarse.

"I don't know what to do, Ginny," she whimpered. "I don't know what to do. I don't even know where Wonny is. On some weally dangerous mission with Harry, no doubt, along with that evil Gwanger. She's probably making him do things to her wight now. Oh, that wicked Gwanger! What am I ever going to do about that wicked, wicked Gwanger?"

"Maybe you just kill her," said Ginny sarcasticly as she tried to get back to her pumpkin mocha. "That would solve all of your problems."

Big mistake.

"You know what?" said Lavender, wiping her face with what was left of Ginny's napkin. "I had never thought about doing that before. Why didn't I? It's weally obvious that that's what I should do. After all, she stole my Wonny away from me! Once she's dead, he'll finally be fwee from her spell! And then we can get back to wicking each other's faces and watching the Hallmark channel together."

"I wasn't being serious!" Ginny said quickly, feeling her heartbeat increase a little. "You do know that, don't you?"

"I shall begin a search wight away!" said Lavender, pounding her fist on the table with determination. "I will get my wevenge! Hermione Gwanger, pwepare to taste my shit!"

After saying these powerful words, she got up from the table and went into the girls toilet, which is apparently where she was going to begin planning out her evil plot.

Ginny sighed deeply.

"How many pointless subplots is this fanfiction going to have?" she wondered outloud.

What Ginny didn't know, of course, was that she had bigger things to worry about.

Much bigger things.

Such as the Phantom of the Opera.

The Phantom of the Opera looked around what was left of the Chamber of Secrets. He had, a very long time ago, used to be here quite often.

But it was a very long time ago. It was so long ago, in fact, that he wondered if the memories that he had of this place were true or not.

He examined the body of what he was certain was the giant snake who had once lived here. He had never been able to look at the monster in the past, because of what he had heard about looking into the creature's eyes, but now that it was dead, he saw no harm in looking at it now.

It brought back so many memories. So many.

He remembered a time, many, many years ago, when he had first entered Hogwarts. He was waiting to be sorted with a large paper bag over his head.

True to the nature of these tragic childhood stories, all of the kids were making fun of him.

"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed many of the kids. "Look at that boy! He's got a bag on his head!"

But there was one boy who wasn't laughing at him.

His name was Tom Riddle.

"You don't have to keep that bag on your head, you know," he told him gently. "Most of these kids aren't worth your concern. Trust me on that much."

The Phantom was far too shy to answer.

"I'm Tom Riddle," said Tom Riddle, holding out his hand so that the Phantom could shake it. "What's your name?"

Again, the Phantom didn't answer. He wasn't even sure if he had a name.

"So, how did you find out?" asked Tom, clearly trying to make conversation.

Finally, without thinking twice, the little Phantom spoke.

"Found out what?" he asked through his bag.

"That you had magical powers," said Tom Riddle. "That you were, you know, a wizard."

The Phantom wasn't sure how to respond.

"It's...complicated," said the Phantom. "I really shouldn't tell you."

"You can trust me," said Tom. "I promise not to tell anyone."

"Maybe later," said the Phantom. "I really can't tell you now."

"That's fine," said Tom, smiling at him. "I'm still a total stranger to you, after all."

The Phantom nodded slowly.

"So, who are your parents?" asked Tom, apparently trying to change the subject.

Once again, the Phantom wasn't sure how to answer.

"They're...dead," said the Phantom carefully.

Tom's face was unreadable.

"I'm sorry," he said simply.

"Don't be," said the Phantom quietly. "I don't really miss them very much. My mother was a drunk and my father walked out the door the day that I was born."

How tragic. How sad. How incredibly original.

"I don't understand," said Tom. "Why would your father leave you?"

"Because of..." the Phantom started to say, but he found that he couldn't finish his sentence.

Instead, he began to softly cry.

"There, there, small child," said Tom, wrapping his arms around him. "If it makes you feel any better, I hated my parents as well."

The Phantom looked up at his new friend.

"Why are you so nice to me?" he asked.

"Because we have more in common than you may think," said Tom, without offering any details beyond that.

"Oh," said the Phantom, because the author couldn't think of anything better for him to say.

"Now, go back to your seat," said Tom Riddle, gently pushing him away from him. "You're going to be sorted soon."

The Phantom walked back to his chair, looking back at Tom as he did so. If Tom could've seen through his bag, he would've noticed a small smile.

That was many, many years ago.

"WHY???!!!!" cried the Phantom in agony. "WHY DID IT HAVE TO HAPPEN?!?!? WHY?!?!"

He kicked the body of the monster in his rage.

He tried to collect himself. He couldn't let his anger take him over right now. Not if his plan was going to work.

His plan to get revenge.

His plan to finally get what he wanted.

His plan to get Ginny Weasley.


	23. Wormtail's Plan

At _The Prancing Pony_, Wormtail snuck around the 13th room on the 13th floor, wearing an Invisibility Cloak and careful not to wake up his guests.

He had had to hold very, very still for almost two hours while Harry Potter paced around the room, ate a chocolate bar, talked to himself, played the violin, used the toilet, sang the final verse of "Breakaway," cleaned his glasses and brushed his teeth.

But now, the boy was fast asleep on his uncomfortable bed, probably having another nightmare about his parents.

"Sleep well, Harry Potter," Wormtail whispered at him, unable to stop himself from chuckling a little. "Because, soon, you'll be in a sleep that you'll never wake up from."

He then suddenly felt uneasy. He just remembered something. Something that he had forgotten to do.

"Dobby's sock," he muttered. "I forgot to place a camera above Potter's bed."

This wasn't going to be easy for him. He had no trouble at all hanging a camera in front of Hermione's bed, due to how deep her sleep was. He hadn't any problem's with Ron's bed either.

But Wormtail had a feeling that Harry could be woken up easily. This made him very concerned about what he was about to do.

Slowly, gently, he climbed on top of his bed. He almost fell off as he did so.

"This mattress really is crappy," he said to himself. "It's a wonder that they haven't shut down this hotel by now."

He then remembered that talking to himself probably wasn't a very good idea right now. It might wake up Harry.

So he shushed himself.

"Shhhhh," he went, placing a finger over his lips.

He crept across the crappy mattress, doing everything in his power to not step on any part of Harry. When he got to the wall, he began the process of installing the camera.

"Shame that I didn't do this before he arrived," he muttered. "It would've been much easier."

He then shushed himself again. He had a way of forgetting when he needed to be quiet.

"Shhhh," he went, placing a finger over his lips once more.

What exactly is wrong with the author of this story anyway?

Anyway, after fifteen minutes, Wormtail was finally done with his task. It hadn't been easy, since Harry had squirmed a lot, but he had managed to do it without waking the boy.

He crawled off the bed and crept out the door. Several Death Eaters were waiting for him outside.

"Did you do it?" one of them asked him.

"Yes," said Wormtail with delight as he took off the Invisibility Cloak and shut the door behind him. "All of the cameras have been installed!"

"Excellent," responded the Death Eater. "Now Potter's demise will be captured on camera, and the whole world will be able to watch his death on Youtube."

"What's Youtube?" asked one the other Death Eaters.

"I'll explain it to you later," the Death Eater told him, rolling his eyes behind his mask.

"So, when are you boys doing it?" asked Wormtail. "They may not stay asleep, you know, and we want to make their deaths _entertaining_, if you follow what I'm saying."

"We do it in about half an hour," responded the Death Eater. "We just have to go over the script first."

"Script?" went one of the Death Eaters, who appeared to be the only woman in the group. "I wasn't aware that we had a script."

"Yes," said the Death Eater, handing sheets of paper out to all of them. "We want to scare Potter as much as possible before we kill him, you see, so we must prepare for that. Also, I think that it would be best to kill Granger and Weasley first. That way Potter would have to endure the agony of watching his friends die."

"Good thinking," said one of the Death Eaters. "What a pleasant surpirse that this will be for the Dark Lord!"

"Surprise?" went one of the Death Eaters, clearly concerned. "You're meaning to say that the Dark Lord doesn't know about any of this?"

"No, not at all," answered the other Death Eater. "It was all Wormtail's idea."

Wormtail smiled proudly.

"This is going to be just like that 'Vacancy' movie," he said in an excited voice. "Oh, won't the Dark Lord be pleased with me for remembering his birthday!"

"It's his birthday?" one of the Death Eaters asked, looking over the pages of his script. "I wasn't aware that it was here yet."

"Well, I'm _pretty_ sure that it is," said Wormtail, although his voice seemed uncertain. "In any case, the Dark Lord will definately be happy about this."

"Not likely," responded the Death Eater. "I think that there's something wrong with my script. It seems to just be the opening scene in 'Mission: Impossible 3'."

"Mine's from 'Star Wars'," said another Death Eater. "It's Padme asking Anakin to hold her like he did on the lake of Naboo."

"Eewww," went another Death Eater.

"Mine's even worse than that, I'm afraid," said the female Death Eater sadly. "It's the 'Sam's happy time' joke from 'Transformers'."

"Enough of these pointless movie references!" shouted one of the Death Eaters, grabbing all of the scripts from his comrades. He looked over them and made a disgusted sound.

"None of these are right!" he yelled. "None of them at all! That's the last time I let a house elf use the printer!"

"What are we going to do?" cried one of the Death Eaters. "Our evil plan is ruined!"

"Not to worry," said another Death Eater, giving his friend a firm pat on the back. "We'll just wing it. How hard can that be?"

"Well, then we have to come up with something fast," said the female Death Eater. "We have to do this before morning, or the hotel will open back up before Potter is dead!"

And so they all sat down in a small circle, quickly coming up with a plan to destory Potter that was so complicated that the author won't even bother trying to explain it in this chapter.

"Alright," said Wormtail after they were done with their discussion. "Let's give the Dark Lord the happy birthday that he deserves!"

They all did the secret Death Eater handshake with each other and went off to their places. If Potter wasn't going to make it out of this one alive, then everything would have to go according to plan.

Meanwhile, at St. Mungo's hospital, the Trix Rabbit was on his deathbed.

He had been sick for a long time, with a rare disease that only rabbits can get. The doctors had been doing all that they could for him, but they were finally out of ideas.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Rabbit," said one of the doctors in a polite but sincerely sad tone of voice. "There is nothing more that we can do for you when it comes to treatment."

The Trix Rabbit struggled to keep his eyes open so he could look at his doctor.

"How much time do I have?" he asked in a wheezy voice.

"I'm afraid," said the doctor, "that you only have a few hours left."

The Trix Rabbit said nothing at first.

"It's just as well," he said at last with a heavy sigh. "You've been good to me, doc. You really have."

A tear welled up in the doctor's eye.

"Is there anything that I can do for you?" he asked the dying bunny. "Anything at all that you would want?"

The Trix Rabbit knew exactly what he wanted. The thing that had eluded him for his whole life. The thing that he had spent years of agony trying to get.

He wanted to taste Trix cereal. Just once. Then his life would finally be worth something.

"Call the kids," he whispered to the doctor. "Tell them to come and see me."


	24. The Note

Harry Potter woke up quite suddenly in the middle of the night. He had just had a terrible nightmare.

It was about his beloved Ginny Weasley, jumping in front of Hermione Granger to block a death curse which had been fired by Lavender Brown.

He sat up in his bed and rubbed his eyes. It had only been a dream.

And yet, he couldn't just tell himself that in order to give himself some false comfort. He knew that he wasn't like other people. Other people had dreams. Dreams that didn't mean anything. Harry Potter, on the other hand, _never_ had dreams that didn't mean something.

Well, except of course for the dream he had once had about Professor Dumbledore and Severus Snape passionately kissing each other on the lips. That dream was so absurd that it couldn't have meant anything at all.

He hoped.

He reached under his pillow and flipped through his dream diary. It was always a horribly depressing task for him to do, because almost all of his dreams were so tragic. Rarely had Harry ever been able to read through the entire journal with dry eyes.

But it was important that he at least skim through it. He had to see if there were any dreams in there about Lavender Brown. They might help him understand what his nightmare had meant.

Nothing.

There were plenty of dreams about Ginny, of course. There was the dream he had had about her in April, swimming fully nude in the lake at Hogwarts and making love to the giant squid. There was the one that he had in early May about her giving a speech at the Oscars, only to have the shoulder straps of her dress snap off, revealing her beautiful naked body to the entire world. There was the dream that he had about three weeks ago about Ginny Weasley sitting alone in a tiny cell in Azkaban, wearing nothing but the heavy chains which bound her to the wall.

And there were all of the other dreams about her, the ones that didn't satisfy his sexual desires.

The nightmares.

Ginny Weasley being eaten alive by Crabbe and Goyle. Ginny Weasley getting run over by the Hogwarts Express. Ginny Weasley getting shoved face first into a dishwasher that was filled with insanely sharp butcher's knives. Ginny Weasley being flushed down a gigantic toilet by Gwarp. Ginny Weasley getting her skin chewed clean off by Dobby the house elf.

And, of course, Ginny Weasley dying at the hands of Lord Voldemort.

Just like his parents.

It was then when it happened. Harry Potter couldn't stand it anymore. He shoved the damned dream diary back under his pillow and began to sob.

"If only I hadn't been a baby when it happened," he sobbed. "I could've done something about it then! I could've saved them!"

He was so busy crying that he hardly noticed Hermione Granger getting into bed with him.

"Which way...to the toilet?" she asked in a tipsy voice while hitting him lightly on the shoulder. "I need...it...badly."

"It's right across the room in plain sight!" shouted Harry, frustrated that Hermione had interupted his crying. "Don't you notice that it doesn't have a door in front of it?"

Hermione looked in the direction that Harry was pointing. She began to laugh.

"Well, that's just my luck, isn't it?" she giggled. "How silly of them to have no...no...door!"

"Yeah, real silly," grumbled Harry, not in the mood for dealing with Hermione right now. "Now, go do whatever you have to do and leave me alone."

Hermione slowly got up and made her way to the toilet, singing a song to herself that Harry couldn't make out. Not wanting to risk seeing anything that he didn't want to, Harry shoved his face into his pillow and refused to look back up until he had heard a flush. Even after his ears had heard that sound, he still waited five whole minutes before he dared to lift his head, just to be extra careful.

When he finally did look up and open his eyes again, he was unhappy to see that Hermione was back in bed with him.

"I want...to play a game," she said in a slow voice. She then moved her face very close to Harry's. "I want to play...a game...with you."

Not liking the direction in which this was going, Harry backed away from her. "I don't have time for games!" he told her nervously. "Why don't you just play with Ron?"

"Because Ron's...asleep," said Hermione, sounding dissapointed. She let out a small hiccup. "And I want to play _now_!"

"Fine, whatever," said Harry, hoping that he could somehow put Hermione back to sleep by talking with her. "What kind of game would you like to play?"

"I want to play a game that I invented," said Hermione. "It's called 'Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger'."

"WHAT???" shouted Harry, raising his voice louder than he intended to. "What kind of a game is that???"

"You play Ron, and I play Hermione," explained Hermione with a wicked smile. "Then we see where we go from there."

"No way!" shouted Harry, raising his voice even more. "You don't want to play a game like that with me! Really, you don't!"

"Oh, but I do," said Hermione, licking her finger and tapping it on his nose. "I really, _really_ do."

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the hotel, Wormtail was watching everything that was going on inside Harry's room on a large computer screen.

"What's taking so damn long?" asked a Death Eater who was standing next to him. "We're supposed to be shooting Potter's death, not making something sick like a sex tape!"

"We can't get started until the pizza is ready!" shouted Wormtail in a pleading voice. "And besides, we can always edit out the parts that we don't need."

"Forget about the pizza!" said the Death Eater firmly. "You're running out of time! You must get started _now_ if you're going to ensure the boy's demise."

"I suppose that I could just use an empty pizza box instead," Wormtail muttered. "But it won't have the same impact."

"Just do it!" shouted the Death Eater as he shoved Wormtail out of the room. "We haven't got a moment to lose!"

It was around this time when Harry noticed something above his bed that he hadn't seen before.

"Hang on!" he said, pushing Hermione off of him before anything major could happen between them. "What's that up there?"

He got up to give the object a closer look. It appeared to be a camera of some sort.

"Hermione, I think that we're being watched!" he said with alarm. "Wake up Ron! We have to get out of here as soon as possible!"

But Hermione only responded with a very loud snore. She had fallen back asleep.

He was startled by a knock on the door.

"Pizza's here!" came a voice from the other side of the hotel room.

Harry sighed deeply and walked over to the door.

"Look, I don't have time for this," he said. "I didn't order any pizza. You've got the wrong house."

"No, I don't," said the voice. "The pizza is free. It was made _specially_ for you."

Harry sighed again and opened the door, only to discover Wormtail, holding a pizza box and wearing an even stranger uniform than before.

"Wormtail!" he shouted. "What is the meaning of this? Why are there cameras hidden in my room?"

"I'm just delivering your pizza," said Wormtail, looking sheepish. "And as for the cameras, they're, um, uh, well. uh, they're kinda, well..."

"What?" shouted Harry. "Are you spying on me or something?"

"No," said Wormtail. "The cameras are there to...protect you, Harry. They're security cameras."

He beamed as though he was proud of himself for coming up with a good excuse.

"Rubbish," said Harry. "I don't need protection. I'm Harry Potter, and I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Nothing gets past me!"

This was ironic, because at that very moment, about five death eaters were sneaking into the open door of Harry's hotel room, hidden under an invisibility cloak.

"At least take the pizza," said Wormtail, handing it over to him. "Like I said earlier, it's on the house."

"Fine," said Harry, opening the pizza box. He looked inside it for a moment.

"Hang on!" he said. "There isn't any pizza in this box at all! Wormtail, what are you up to?"

But when he looked up, Wormtail had gone.

He shut the door with frustation, and gave the pizza box a better look. After examining it for a bit, he discovered a tiny note taped to the bottom.

_Mr. Potter,_

_I am your doom_

_I'm in your hotel room_

_Your friends are doomed, too_

_For they are with you_

_You will all die_

_With Pain_

_Agony_

_Torture_

_Pain_

_Agony_

_Torture_

_Pain_

_Agony_

_Torture_

_And more_

_Soon it will be over_

_But not until after you've watched your friends die_

_Then you will die_

_Painfully_

_Hope that you enjoyed the pizza, for it was the last one that you'll ever have._

_Sincerely,_

_Your doom._

"What a load of bullshit!" said Harry, crumbling up the piece of paper and tossing it on the floor. "If Wormtail had any idea how many notes I've gotten like that, he'd know that it takes a lot more than that to frighten someone like me."

He turned to wake up Ron and Hermione to tell them about it...but when he looked around the room for them, they were nowhere to be seen.


End file.
